


Saving Will

by DocMurphy, Entropyrose



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Will Graham, Brainwashing, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Human Trafficking, M/M, Omega Will Graham, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 22,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26383612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocMurphy/pseuds/DocMurphy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entropyrose/pseuds/Entropyrose
Summary: "It takes a fair bit to rattle Hannibal Lecter, 48 year veteran of the disturbing and macabre, but the sight of what is clearly an omega sex worker at his hotel room door is almost enough to do it."Or,Hannibal saves a beautiful Omega named Will from the hands of a scummy human trafficker.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 270





	1. Chapter 1

Will stares blankly at the door to the Kensington Suite, gathering his thin black jacket further around himself. He really cannot stand it when Mr. Cavanaugh orders him down to practically nothing. It is cool and revealing and makes Will feel exponentially exposed. He ignores the murmurs from the guests across the hall as they sneer at him, mentioning something about the audacity of a whore to show up half-dressed so shortly after dinnertime. 

Tonight's chaperone is Philip, an impressively tall man with a tattoo on his neck and a quiet demeanor that belies his penchant for violence. Philip knocks on the door with a sideways glance at Will that tells him he'd better step into line for this one. 

The man who answers is taller still, with fine-cut features and mysterious steel gray eyes. His expression is one of poorly masked surprise. Will hugs himself tighter as Philip recites his carefully practiced lines. "Dr. Hannibal, Mr. Cavanaugh sends along a gift. He is grateful for your continued support and friendship and he hopes this token of his gratitude ensures an enjoyable evening."

Philip unceremoniously pushes Will forward, and he catches himself before falling headfirst into the startled Alpha. 

As he's practiced a thousand times, Will drops his head submissively, flashing the thick gold collar around his throat and pretending not to notice when Philip elbows the Doctor and chuckles, "You're gonna like this one, bud. This is from Kavanaugh's personal collection. He's a fucking thoroughbred. Your knot has never been wrung so tight---take it from me." 

Will feels a heavy blush set in and looks away. 

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," Philip murmurs in Will's ear, giving him a light peck on the cheek and sliding a sickeningly familiar hand up his naked thigh. "Show our guest a good time. Now off you go."

Will squeaks as he slaps him on the ass. Philip's conduct is something Mr. Kavanaugh would deeply disapprove of---Will is not to be touched without Kavanaugh's approval, and he's killed men over less. Philp had just been promoted a few weeks prior, and Will had been his party favour. 

Still, Will smiles softly at the tall Alpha in the doorway, careful not to meet him in the eye.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes a fair bit to rattle Hannibal Lecter, 48 year veteran of the disturbing and macabre, but the sight of what is clearly an omega sex worker at his hotel room door is almost enough to do it. The man is beautiful, but underweight, and to the untrained eye would seem perfectly calm and happy with his surroundings, but Hannibal’s spots the signs of trauma and conditioning almost instantly. The omega does not look up, but his hands move, small unconscious gestures meant to ground himself in the present moment, either a response to traumatic memory or a traumatic situation, or both. 

He doesn’t like the Alpha that accompanies him, that much is clear, and Hannibal isn’t too taken with him either. The best thing then, is to get the poor soul inside, and worry about the particulars later.

“Thank you,” Hannibal smiles warmly, as long as you didn’t look at his eyes, at the Alpha, and gestures the omega forward.

“Please, come in.” Once they are inside he steers the ethereal looking man towards to sofa and sits him down. The omega goes without any resistance whatsoever. 

“Are you alright? What is your name?”

Will keeps his eyes trained into the distance just behind Hannibal's left ear. It's a submissive, respectful guesture that indicates he is listening and receptive, yet unassuming. He smiles numbly, letting his hands fall to his lap. "Of course, Alpha. Is that what you would like me to call you? "Alpha"?"

“No,” Hannibal replies a little too quickly. “My name is Hannibal Lecter. You can call me Hannibal. What is your name? Who is the man who brought you here?”

He is asking far too many questions, but the more he looks at Will the more he notices small details which make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up - there is a bruise under one eye, artfully covered with makeup, and a small series of marks on the underside of one arm that look for all the word like cigarette burns.

"Yes, Hannibal." Will says, making an effort of saying the man's first name. He winces, as if expecting a slap for such impertinence, and visibly relaxes again when it doesn't come. "My name is Omega. Alpha Philip is my caretaker this evening. He works for Mr. Cavanaugh. But you don't need to worry about all that," His tone rises, sliding effortlessly into a breathy, sultry note, and reaching one hand up to cup the side of Hannibal's face. "Why are you so tense? Are you nervous? I am clean, of course, and I have brought plenty of condoms."


	3. Chapter 3

“O-K,” Hannibal says, astounded. He goes over to the minibar and takes out two miniatures, bringing them back to the sofa. He hands one to Will, drinking his straight out of the bottle.

“I don’t think your name is Omega, but I won’t push you on that. What I will do is give you an out - you and I can be on our way down the fire escape and away from here, if that’s what you want. I know people who can help you. Does Mr Cavanaugh have a lot of....never mind. What do you want to do?”

Will's heavy eyelids flash as if unable to register all that the Alpha is saying. "Would you like to call me something else? Do you have a mate? Or a wife? You could call me by any name." Will plays with the top of the bottle nervously before setting it aside. His hands return to Hannibal's face, impossibly sharp fingernails tracing thier way down his jawline and dipping beneath his collar. Will's breath speeds up. "Alph...Hannibal," he corrects himself. "You are so beautiful." There is no deception in his tone, his eyes pale and seductive, drinking in the overwhelming Alpha pheromones. "Why would I want to leave?"

Hannibal’s exterior doesn’t change, but the swan’s feet are busy paddling under the surface. He has a lot of information to process - Mr Cavanaugh is likely trafficking and abusing omegas as part of the sex trade, he has for some reason sent one to Hannibal’s room bearing clear marks of abuse, and even better, his nose helpfully supplies, this omega has about 6 hours before his heat kicks in. Magical. Hannibal needs Will to tell him explicitly that he needs help, or else it’s just kidnap of another sort, and so for the moment he decides to play along.

“I would like to be able to call you by your name,” he says softly, pulling the omega into his lap to be gentled. He places a hand of the back of the poor creature’s neck. "What is it?”


	4. Chapter 4

Will begins purring the instant his bony bottom touches Hannibal's lap. He lets out an exquisite sigh, and unlaces the tie around his middle. It melts away to reveal a lacy nighty--white, Cavanaugh's preferred color for Will---and more delightfully soft, fragranced skin. "Will," he murmurs into Hannibal's clavicle and slipping an arm over his neck. "My name is Will." He doesn't waste any time indulging himself in the comforting numbness of the hold, and sets to work loosening Hannibal's tie, slipping it off over his head and undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, pressing delicate kisses full of promise and possibilities to every inch of his exposed skin. "Alpha, you taste so good," Will cooes, lathing his tongue over the divot in Hannibal's chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Well, this got out of hand rather fast, Hannibal muses to himself as he allows Will to remove his shirt. His logical brain is screaming at him, and he feels like he is watching himself move, unable to control what is happening. He lifts up the nighty, finding Will bare and already wet beneath, throwing it in a pile by the sofa and running his hands over Will’s smooth skin.   
“How long have you worked for Cavanaugh? Does he pay you?” Hannibal makes a valiant attempt at reconnaissance work, whilst, he chastises himself, being part of the problem.

Will moans at the touch, taking Hannibal's hands to guide them to where it feels good, whimpering as they graze across his nipples, down the flat of his chest and the valley of his ebbing, concave stomach. "Work for him?," He huffs incredulously. "I was auctioned. He used me on the circut for a year before making me one of his wives. I belong to him." 

Here, Will gains confidence, pushing Hannibal down onto his back and spreading his warm thighs to teasingly rub himself over Hannibal's impressive buldge, laughing breathily when it twitches up into the cleft of his cheeks, still trapped by fabric. "You're huge, aren't you?"

“Y-yes, Will hang on..oohh” Hannibal’s well intentioned sentence trails off into a groan as Will rubs himself against Hannibal’s erection. Fuck it, he could do charity work later. He flips them over, trapping Will underneath him, tracing between his cheeks with an eager hand to feel the slick already covering Will’s thighs. "You said you were his wife, but I don’t see a mating scar,” he murmurs, slipping a finger inside the omega as he struggles to undo his belt with his other hand.

"Let me," Will cooes, ignoring the question for now. Expert hands find their way to Hannibal's fly and slide it apart, pushing his trousers off his hips to greedily tug Hannibal out. "Oh my god," Will groans, his entrance twitching in anticipation. 

Philip wasn't just bragging---Will is like a vice, his channel well-trained and hot, sucking Hannibal's finger in as much as it's trying to push it out. A thick stream of fresh slick spills out onto Hannibal's hand.

"Taste me," Will beckons, and its enough to make even a seasoned lover like Hannibal blush. "Cavanaugh told me to tell you I have the best slick. He would like you to..." Here, Will himself goes beet red, looking away as he says the words he's not sure he fully understands, "He would like you to use me in your recipes."


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal is fairly committed to the idea of killing Cavanaugh at this point, but he takes the man at his word and lifts up Will’s thighs to suck at his hole. He does taste heavenly, his greedy entrance trying to pull Hannibal’s tongue into his body.

“Needy boy,” Hannibal chastises fondly. "Turn over for me, I want to see you.”

"Yes, Alpha," Will whines. He perches himself on his knees in front of him, in the traditional Presentation pose. Slick is now thoroughly saturating the inside of Will's legs, his hole puffy and pink and well-trained. He pushes his hips back, arching as his entrance flutters open and closed, obviously more than aware that there is an Alpha nearby. 

"Please," Will pleads, his voice on the edge of desperation. "Need you, Alpha. Need your knot.... Please...."

Hannibal is aware that in half an hour he’s going to regret a lot of choices, but now isn’t the time to think about that. He mounts the desperate omega, feeding his huge cock into his tight hole inch by inch.

“I could challenge him for you,” Hannibal rasps. That would give the society column something to talk about for a week. “You could be mine.”

He closes his eyes as he bottoms out, fighting the urge to come right then and there. He starts to move, slowly, almost leisurely, paying attention to every little sound and movement from the man he’s decided will be his mate.

If the omega has heard anything the man above him has said, he doesn't acknowledge it. He is too far gone for schematics, right now, wailing exquisitely, capturing Hannibal inside his perfect channel as he wiggles his hips back, caging the Alpha inside. 

Without a warning or request, Will spins himself around on Hannibal's knot like a professional gymnast, toppling Hannibal onto his back on the floor and swinging both legs over Hannibal's shoulders. "May I show you something?," Will remarks with a sultry smile. "I can fuck you as hard as you'd like and still stop you from coming. Most Alphas aren't strong enough to take it, but I think you could be."

“Show me,” is all Hannibal can say in return.


	7. Chapter 7

Will bites his bottom lip as he hoists himself into position, nearly folded in half on top of Hannibal's chest. Deep inside, his prostate is nearly crushing Hannibal's knot as he begins a tight, fast rhythm, bringing himself up off of him until his cock is nearly free, only to slam back down again. He angles so Hannibal's cock catches against the hard ridge of his sweet spot, constricting his knot near the point of pain. He repeats this until Hannibal himself is a panting, writhing mess, completely helpless to stop the pressure and the punishing ryhthm. 

He brings Hannibal right to the edge so many times they both loose count and Will's body is glittering and dewy with sweat. He feels along Hannibal's neck, checking his pulse, laughing that gorgeous breathy laugh when he realizes Hannibal is nearing a stroke-level blood pulse. 

"I think you like it," He sing songs, capturing Hannibal's fingers and sucking them deep into that pretty pink mouth, a strong tongue wrapping around them. Will's cock is so hard it hits his stomach as he bounces.

"Come with me," Will moans, throwing his head back and deepening the thrusts. At the moment of his release, his body lets up, making Hannibal's knot balloon inside his walls as he coats Hannibal's chest with his release.

Hannibal comes so hard that he can’t breathe for a moment; he pulls Will to his chest and holds him tightly as wave after wave of ecstasy roll through him. He’s glad that Will took control - he wouldn’t have been able to resist biting him if he hadn’t. From where Will is lying dozing on top of him, he can see the burn marks more clearly on his arm. "What happened here?” He asks.

Will groans at the mention of his imperfections, nuzzling underneath Hannibal's chin and burying his face in his fine dusting of chest hair. "Accident", he says dismissively, mewling as his body pulls another orgasm from the unwitting Alpha. "Sorry," he murmurs in a tone that suggests he's really not. "I'm...I'm going into heat, I think. When the tie fades, would you like to take a bath? I give an excellent massage."

“If you are going into heat then it is I who will be looking after you,” Hannibal nuzzles his hair, deciding not to press Will about his ‘accidents’. He would find out in time. 

“Will, it is completely up to you of course, but if I offered you the chance to come away with me, would you take it?”


	8. Chapter 8

Will's expression is sad and distant. "There is no "away", from here, for me, Alpha. Though I appreciate the sentiment." He wiggles again, this time coming to a seated positon on top of Hannibal. "Look at this," He says, leading both Hannibal's hands to his belly, which is now distended and heavy. "I'm so full," he marvels. "It must be a gallon, at least. Are you a thoroughbred, Alpha?"

“I am." Hannibal feels his heart breaking for Will - he can see the pain just under the surface, like a frozen river. Hannibal carries him to the bathroom and sets him down on the toilet.

The omega doesn’t seem embarrassed by the routine - it’s likely that he has had to do this many times, with many Alphas, in many soulless hotel rooms. Hannibal starts the bath running, then walks back to Will, placing a hand on his forehead.

“Is it customary for you to be sent out to work this close to your heat? Do you feel at all ill?”

Heat could make Omegas feel feverish and unwell until they were knotted - even then the experience could be somewhat of a trial.

"I am perfectly well, thank you," Will says robotically, echoing Hannibal's intonation. "I work when Cavanaugh tells me to work. Sometimes it is near my heats, sometimes during, though these days he usually prefers for me to stay home during them." Will slips into the highest seat in the jaccuzzi, parting his legs and gesturing for Hannibal to sit on the lower level between them. He shampoos Hannibal's hair, expertly massaging the suds in with his sharp little nails. "You are breathtaking," Will murmurs, leaning his naked chest into Hannibal's wide back. "I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful Alpha. Yet I don't smell a significant other on you." Here his voice takes on a sad lilt, and he angles Hannibal's chin so their eyes meet for the first time. "Why is such an exsquisite, intelligent, kind-hearted being such as you, unmated?"

“I’ve never before felt the need,” Hannibal replies honestly.  
“Now, I said that I would be looking after you, and here you are washing my hair. Come.” Hannibal switches them around so that Will is lying in the warm water, his head near enough in Hannibal’s lap. Will’s skin is becoming feverish already - Hannibal needs to get some food and drink into the boy before he is completely mindless. They don’t speak as he washes Will - all of Hannibal’s questions relate to Will’s clear mistreatment, which he has so far been unwilling to speak about. 

Cold discontent is beginning to settle in Hannibal’s stomach - he has already been compelled to behave in a way he wouldn’t normally, and now he has an in heat omega on his hands, who he will have to fuck repeatedly or it will cause him extreme discomfort. He needs to have a chat with Mr Cavanaugh. He’s decided on one thing though - Will is going to be wearing his collar and his bite mark by the end of the week. 

“Come on sweetheart, do you want to sleep for a little while before your heat starts? I’ll make you something to eat as well.”

Will clearly doesn’t understand that he’s a victim, so Hannibal will have to rely on gentle treatment to get him on side.

Will smiles sweetly at the kind Alpha and nods. He allows Hannibal to drape one of the hotel's fluffy bathrobes around him, snuggling into its warmth. He waits on the couch in front of a roaring fireplace while Hannibal prepares a meal in the huge suite's kitchenette. He doesn't understand why the man is being so nice--nor why he bothers keeping him around, if they are clearly through with sex--but he's certainly not complaining. 

They enjoy a quiet dinner, Will leaning against one of the Alpha's broad shoulders, and talk about mundane things like the weather and each others' favorite foods. After they are through eating, Will asks if the Alpha wouldn't mind gentling him again, and the sweet man obligues, lifting Will's lithe frame onto his lap and applying soothing pressure to his neck, nosing him and murmuring praise all the while. 

He could have an evening like this for the rest of his life and be perfectly happy, Will thinks as he drifts off to sleep, feeling full and warm and safe for the very first time since he can remember. 

There is a soft knock on the door and the gruff sound of Philip clearing his throat. Will whines instinctively as he is pulled from his dreams. 

"Dr. Lecter, sorry to bother you but are you about finished up in there? Mr. Cavanaugh requested I bring the Omega back by 1am."


	9. Chapter 9

Hannibal feels a tug in his gut at the thought of Will being taken away so soon. The latter part of their evening has been sweet and tender, and Will has relaxed significantly in his company. The joy Hannibal felt when he had asked to be gentled again was indescribable, he could have happily died with the omega in his arms, and would have had no complaints at all. 

“Would it be possible for me to extend the visit? I will pay, naturally.”

Phillip makes a good show of appearing sympathetic.

“He’s special, isn’t he?” The thug sighs. “Unfortunately I have to take him back now.”

Hannibal nods, his huge brain whirring fast. He has to override his instinct to kill Phillip and run off with Will - the best way to get what he wants is to let Will go for now, and become closer to Cavanaugh. Will has woken up and pads out to the foyer, stiffening visibly when he sees Phillip.

“Our time is up, sweet boy. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” 

Will goes to take off the bathrobe and Hannibal stops him. 

“You keep hold of that. He is in heat,” he tells Phillip. “Please look after him.”

Phillip just gives him a smirk before he grabs Will’s arm, and the two of them disappear. Hannibal closes the door, sits down with his back against it, and cries for the first time in forty years.


	10. Chapter 10

Cavanaugh's suite is uncharacteristically quiet. On a normal outing, there would be a big party, the revelers packing the rooms with loud music and dancing if not having already drank themselves into a stupor. This is something fancy though---A conference of sorts, and there is a certain decorum that goes along with that. 

"There's my little Honey-Bee," Cavanaugh cooes, holding his arms out for an embrace as Will shuffles in. "Ooh, a robe and everything? Must be things went well. Did you show our special guest a good time?"

As expected of him, Will drifts into his arms, letting out a small groan as the big man squeezes down on his tiny frame with a force too harsh to be loving. "Yes, Daddy." 

"That's my good boy. Did you tell him to taste your slick?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Excellent," Cavanaugh praises, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Now, to the bathroom with you, before that nasty ol' heat starts up. We have to get you cleaned out for me."

Will whimpers, pushing away weakly and angling himself back towards the bedroom. "Please, Daddy, no. It is so late and I am tired and---"

The tight embrace turns into a grapple as he hoists Will into his arms and carries him off to the bathroom, where he unceremoniously deposits Will onto the counter. He orders him to disrobe, and Will obeys with a distant, detatched gaze. He forces his legs apart and digs around inside him until he is fully satsfied that Will performed his job properly, and explores his body for any marks or bruises left behind, of which of course there are none. 

"He was gentle with you," Cavanaugh muses with a chuckle. "But he still fucked you. All that high 'n mighty bullshit about "omega rights" doesn't mean jack shit when you have one wiggling its ass in your face, does it boy?" 

Will stiffens as the man's meaty fingers grasp his empty balls with a dark grunt, rolling them around in his hand. "What's this?," He growls. 

A deep-rooted fear unfurls in Will's gut and suddenly his mouth goes dry. "I..." He starts, finding himself at a loss for words as he looks away. 

"Did you come for him, boy?"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I just---" 

His hand becomes a fist around Will's nethers, giving them a threatening squeeze that sends an immediate shock of pain through Will's system. He closes his legs instinctively, but Cavanaugh holds them open with his hips, forcing Will back against the mirror as he quickly scrambles for his fly. "Did I say you could come for him?"

Will feels instantly sick at the familiar "clank" of Cavanaugh's belt buckle coming undone. 

"Did I say you could enjoy yourself, slut?"

"N-no, Daddy." Will mewls. "I'm sorr---" 

A hand goes into Will's hair, wrenching his head back as the Alpha relentlessly enters him completely in one go. He chokes down a startled cry, even as his body responds to the punishing thrusts, a single tear rolling down his flushed cheek. "My *wife*....fucking another Alpha..." Cavanaugh grunts, each syllable punctuated in time with a sharp snap of his hips as Will wails. "...and enjoying it! Fucking ....dirty cumdump slut...." 

Will closes his eyes, relaxing his body, knowing from experience that resistance only makes it worse. In the escape of his mind, he transports himself back to Hannibal's suite, back to those strong, gentle arms and that soft, sweet voice. 

Cavanaugh knots him so many times that night that Will falls asleep with him stuck fast inside, his battered body no longer able to put up any resistance.

In the morning, he is awakened by the feel of Cavanaugh pumping one last load inside of him and pulling out before his knot catches. This is perhaps the greatest cruelty of all---Will is now fully in heat, coated with a thin layer of cold sweat, his body reacting and searching for the completeness that only an alpha's knot can sate. His pained whimpers go unheeded, and Cavanaugh rises from the bed, pulling on his pants. "Get up, boy," he grumbles. "Time to spray your filthy ass down and get dressed. Phil will help you pick something to make you look like a proper society finch. We're going out to breakfast."

Will forces himself to sit upright on the bed, clutching the sheets around himself as he tries to register the words. "....breakfast?"


	11. Chapter 11

Will isn't usually out and about in daylight. Especially not with Cavanaugh, who prefers to keep his less savory hobbies out of the view of polite society. Philip is a surprisingly decent stylist-- he bathes and dresses Will, slicking the top of his hair up into a bob and letting the longer tendrils hang down. He chooses a light blue dress shirt and tan pants, and Will would look for all the world like a regular beta if not for the gold collar around his neck. 

Cavanaugh takes him by the hand---an especially odd, intimate feeling, and leads him down to the lobby area of the elaborate hotel. 

The breakfast spot is a french-style patisserie, complete with victorian-era wrought-iron chairs and an indoor rose garden. Will is especially fond of the enormous fish tank, which nearly covers an entire wall. He watches all kinds of aquatic life darting in and out of thier castle decor with wide, expressive eyes. Cavanaugh grunts and pulls him away, to a corner booth where their guest is waiting. 

Will's breath catches as his eyes fall upon the familiar, kind face of the man from last night. A hopeful, bright smile lights up his face and he starts walking towards him without Cavanaugh, who lets out a displeased grunt and catches his arm. 

They greet Hannibal together, Will trying his best to keep his eyes downcast. He finds it impossible not to look up every so often with a dreamy smile. He keeps his hands folded in front of himself as Cavanaugh addresses his fellow Alpha.

"So, Dr. Lecter, I trust you had an...enjoyable night?" Cavanaugh asks, a knowing grin sliding across his face.

Hannibal feels fury wash over him in a red hot wave that makes him want to rip the other Alpha’s throat out. Will should not be out and about in his condition - the omega looks pale and sick, he should be in bed being looked after, rather than paraded around in public. His heat scent floods the room, doing interesting things to Hannibal’s hind brain, which he assumes is rather the point. Cavanaugh has done this tactically. 

“William is quite the treasure,” he says, shaking the man’s hand firmly. “I am very grateful that you allowed me to have him for even a few hours, but might I ask why? We do not know each other well, and yet you have bestowed such a gift upon me.”

They take their seats at the table and a waitress pours coffee; Hannibal forbids himself from looking at Will, because he is scared of what he’ll do if he sees the torment in his eyes, but there is a brief moment when Will reaches for his hand under the table, and it’s all the encouragement that Hannibal needs.


	12. Chapter 12

"I have to confess," Cavanaugh says in his thick Irish brogue as he draws an arm around Will's shoulders, bringing him in closer, "It was as much out of curiousity as anything else. You have always been such an outspoken advocate for the less fortunate. I was beginning to wonder if you were even Alpha at all." He chuckles, givin Hannibal a bear-slap on the shoulder as he adds, "But you ran my boy here through the ringer last night, such that there was little left of him for myself. He enjoyed himself, too--you emptied his balls as well as your own."

Will whimpers, hiding his face in Cavanaugh's barrel chest as the Alpha has a hearty laugh at his expense. Cavanaugh mistakes this as a sign of his heat, and does a "tsk tsk" sound in Will's ear. "You poor creature. Why in god's name did Phil put you in such restrictive outerwear?" 

He smiles at Hannibal with a gesture that says "right?", as if he and Hannibal are now bosom buddies and they share the same annoyances about thier inferiors. 

"C'mon luv," Cavanaugh cooes into Will's ear. "Pull em down."

"No, it's okay," Will says, trying his best not to sound as horrified at the idea as he is.

"What? You're shy all the sudden?" 

"It's not that," Will lies, his face burning up. "It's....it's not that bad is all. It's okay." He pats the Alpha's massive arm with a comforting hand. "Thank you," he murmurs, trying a small smile. 

A growl rumbles up from somewhere deep in Kavanaugh's chest, so loud it rattles the windows in thier very frames. "I said pull 'em down. *Now.*" 

Will's breath hitches and he only hesitates for a moment before undoing his fly and pushing his pants just off his hips. The Alpha brings out a smooth rubber plug from his jacket--nearly as big around as his fist--and plants it on Will's seat. "Down you go," He says with a sickening grin. 

Cavanaugh's eyes aren't on Will while he lowers himself onto the plug with a desperate mewl, the smell of his slick unmistakeable from the mix of coffee, eggs and bacon. He's watching the fury in Hannibal's eyes. And grins. 

"Will here is used to being well plugged during the entirety of his estrus," He explains, not taking his eyes off Hannibal as he takes a liesurely sip from his mug. "In fact, I don't usually let him on his feet. But I knew you'd like him." He winds a loose, chocolate curl around his finger as Will stares ahead, his blue eyes misted over, mouth hanging open, near-mindless with need.   
"What about it, Doctor? Still think Omegas are just like us?"

“In many ways I think they are far better,” Hannibal says lightly, taking a sip of his coffee and carefully schooling his face so that Cavanaugh remains unaware of the fury boiling just underneath the surface. Anyone looking at him would think he was completely used to situations like this, another Alpha business man at table with a colleague, used to treating omegas like furniture. 

Cavanaugh just chuckles and gives Will’s cock a squeeze, making the omega squirm. Hannibal mentally cuts his arm off. He will, one day, make a bracelet from Cavanaugh’s knuckles and give it to Will to wear. In the meantime he goes for distraction. 

“Was Will purely intended as a gift, or are you interested in a business relationship? Would you consider a year’s lease, for example?”

Cavanaugh's eyebrows go up into his spiked bangs. He chuckles heartily. "I'm flattered, Doctor, truly, but keep in mind that Will is my wife. This means not only is he property, he is part of my estate, just as permanent as the walls on my garage."

“I didn’t mean to overstep. However, you have taken significant pains to make Will attractive to me, which I take to mean that there is a deal to be made, yes?”

Cavanaugh looks down at Will, who flashes his neck instinctively in a show of submission and need. He plants his thumb right below Will's collar, at the start of his mating gland, gently caressing the skin there. Will lets out a pathetic whine and Cavanaugh laughs. He gestures to the scores and heavy bite marks embedded along the collar. "See these markings, here? That should give you a good idea of just how many Alphas find him 'attractive'. It's alot of work that goes into taming a feral Omega. Will wasn't always the willing, delicate flower you see before you." He releases Will, and the omega draws in a sharp breath, steadying himself against the table. "Bounce," Cavanaugh instructs plainly. Will whimpers and does as he is told, moving his hips up and down, working the large plug in and out of himself. He stops when he can no longer control the high, mewling sounds escaping his lips, and Cavanaugh chuckles. "Isn't he delightful? Tell you what, Doctor, I'll let you help him through his heat if you like. You don't have to worry about birth control with this one--- you can knot him to your hearts' content and it won't do a damn thing."

Hannibal has to hold on to the table in order not to react to that one. He puts down his fork, appetite entirely destroyed. 

“I would be honoured. Let me know how much I owe you. Shall we settle on a week? Can I take him with me now?”

Mentally he is already half way out of his chair, ready to throw Will over his shoulder and start running.


	13. Chapter 13

  
Cavanaugh hums thoughtfuly, snaking his hand beneath Will's shirt to absentmindedly grope his flat chest, tugging at a nipple and making the Omega's eyes roll back in his head.

"What do you think, lovely? Would you like Dr. Lecter here to pump you full of his seed? You can play pretend that you're making that baby you're always bitching about."

"Y-yes," Will makes out, trying his damndest not to sound as excited about that prospect as he is.

"Well, there you have it then," says the big man, throwing his hands up. "I assume you're not too picky on price, seeing as you haven't given me a number. This little beauty runs $2000 a night, but I'll give you a discount, seeing as you're such a good friend. Let's make it $10,000 for seven days, starting now. What say you?"

“You are far too kind,” Hannibal lies, his smile not reaching his eyes. They shake on it, and Hannibal excuses himself, helping Will to pull his underwear up discreetly. They leave the plug on the chair, and Hannibal sweeps Will away without so much as a backwards glance.

Once they are in the hotel room Hannibal begins packing in a frenzy after sitting Will down on the bed with a glass of water.

“I know you feel awful right now and I will make it better for you, but I need you to just be patient until I can get you home.” He throws his clothes into his suitcase without any of his usual care.

“How do you put up with that animal?”

Will's eyebrows quirk upwards a little. "Cavanaugh isn't an animal," he murmurs thoughtfully. "He saved me. I was on the auctioning block to be sold to a breeding farm because of my disobedient nature. He saw my...potential..." Will looks to the ceiling as he recites the story Cavanaugh has told him hundreds of times, as if the exact wording will appear above his head. "... he took me home and reformed me into what I was always meant to be."

“You won’t believe me when I say this today, but he has taken you a long way from what you should be, Will.”

Suitcase packed, he takes Will by the hand and guides him down the stairs, checking out quickly. As they pull out of the parking lot he notices a sleek black sedan discreetly following them - it doesn’t concern him, and he hadn’t thought for a second that Cavanaugh wouldn’t keep tabs on his asset, but it does ruin plan A, which was to take Will and quietly disappear. That plan relied on Cavanaugh being a moron, which he wasn’t.

It’s a couple of hours back to Baltimore, and Hannibal would have considered trying to lose the sedan if Will hadn’t been suffering quite so much. His heat has fully kicked in, and he is feverish and uncomfortable, writhing in his seat and trying to reach for the Alpha - a couple of times Hannibal has to pull the wheel to stop the car swerving into another lane because Will has tried to climb over the centre console. He has honestly never been so glad to see his own house, and he abandons his suitcase in favour of getting Will, who has been non verbal since half an hour into the journey, into the house. The second they are inside Will is on him, hands everywhere, whining loudly.

“Let me get you upstairs,” Hannibal says, half carrying the heat crazed omega to his bedroom.

Will pulls Hannibal into him, tugging his clothes off haphazardly, lathing his tongue down every inch of exposed skin. The alpha doesn't respond right away---and Will looks up at him questioningly. Perhaps he is expecting Will to do something in particular? But if so, why hasn't he ordered him to do it? Come to think of it...this Alpha has never ordered him to do anything.

Will takes Hannibal's hands in his own, turning them over and kissing each palm reverently before leading them to his body. He lays down on Hannibal's huge lavishly draped bed and pulls the Alpha down on top of him, lifting his hips to rub thier cocks together. He wraps his long, lean legs around Hannibal's waist to run that impossibly thick cock between the cleft of his bottom, writhing and gasping beneath him.

"Alpha," Will mewls, "Please."

Hannibal keeps him on his back this time. He goes slower than Will wants him to, pinning the omegas hands down so that he can’t grip Hannibal’s arse and try and speed him up - drawing out every thrust until Will is almost crying with need. It feels delicious and filthy and so right; they kiss messily until Will comes with an open mouthed cry against Hannibal’s neck.  
Only then does Hannibal give Will the pace he wants, driving into him mercilessly until he feels his knot catch, and he comes hard, his teeth clashing together as the urge to bite takes over.

Will moans as his body milks every last drop Hannibal can offer, until at last the Alpha is coming dry and convulsing through the last of the after shocks. He smiles up at him---happy, content, fulfilled---and grateful for the short reprieve from the constant onslaught of need.

They turn onto thier sides, no easy feat when stuck together, and Will snuggles deeper into Hannibal's chest. "Your scent is divine," Will cooes. "I could smell your scent forever." As his voice drifts off, a sudden thought occurs to him, and he lifts his head to add "That's not something I tell every client....I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

  
Hannibal doesn’t want to test the truth of this statement, so he just strokes Will’s hair in response and kisses the back of his neck, until Will giggles and reaches around to kiss him back. “You didn’t have anything at breakfast, you must be starving,” Hannibal says against his mouth. “We have maybe an hour before your heat starts up again, come on, let me feed you.”

He sits Will in a chair by the kitchen counter and they play nonsense word games - anything to stop talking about the herd of elephants in the room. They’ll get to it, but not today. Word association is fun - Will’s mind goes off at odd angles which keeps Hannibal guessing at the links he makes. Will attacks his bowl of pasta, which Hannibal hopes is also testament to how comfortable he feels, as well as his hunger. Will has clearly been kept hungry for some time, his ribs show painfully and his hip bones are too prominent - Hannibal’s shirt hangs off him like it would on a hanger. Hannibal entertains a brief fantasy of feeding him desert at every meal, letting him get plump.

He gives Will a tour of the house - he loves the library, and the huge armchair within - and keeps him away from the front windows, through which the sleek black sedan can be seen. A problem for another day. He can feel Will’s skin getting warmer by the second, and as they get to the sitting room with it’s huge fireplace and harpsichord, Will goes to his knees, looking up through long eyelashes as he undoes Hannibal’s fly.

Hannibal's hand goes into Will's hair, cupping the side of his face and stopping him from undoing the button on his trousers. "No," he murmurs gently. "You don't have to do that." 

"But..." Will looks away briefly as he gathers his thoughts, his eyebrows deeply furrowed. "What if I want to?" 

Hannibal is quite certain that Will has been so conditioned that he no longer knows the things he truly wants from the things he has been _told_ to want. He looks at the confused creature pityingly. For the first time in a long time he finds himself at a loss for words. 

"My dear boy," he begins, trusting in his wit to fill in the rest. Whatever moral point he was about to make quickly becomes a moot when Will pops the button on Hannibal's pants and swallows him half-hard in one go. Hannibal's head flies back as he braces against the chair, letting out a strangled moan of sheer, animalistic pleasure and nearly coming off the chair. 


	15. Chapter 15

Will's skills don't stop at traditional mating. While some omegas are timid and all too tame when it comes to pleasuring an Alpha orally, this is where Will's years of expertise really shine through. His tongue winds its way around Hannibal's quickly growing cock like a wet silk cord, emptying the swollen head of Hannibal's cock down into his tonsils and squeezing tight. 

If he could at this moment, he'd be grinning triumphantly. The doctor is an absolute mess above him, rocking his hips forward in time with Will as he bobs his head and swallows him further down. Hannibal's eyes have rolled back into his head and Will is fairly certain the string of foreign words coming from his slacked mouth are either accolades or expletives. 

Hannibal makes a noble attempt to pull away when his knot begins to swell, but Will knows what he wants. He digs his nails into Hannibal's trouser-clad thighs and bears down, making brazen slurping noises as Hannibal comes, ribbons of delectable Alpha seed flooding his throat and flowing into his stomach. 

As Hannibal spasms, Will pulls away, wiping a clear white string from the corner of his mouth and grinning up at Hannibal. 

When the Alpha finally catches his breath, he lifts Will onto his lap and Will snuggles in, sated once more with an extra-full feeling. "What am I going to do with you," Hannibal hums finally. 

Will knows it is meant as an expression, so he makes up one of his own. "Hmmmmm....take me shopping and buy all the expensive things?," he quips with an impish grin.


	16. Chapter 16

  
“Isn’t that a fine idea. Tomorrow, I think, when your heat is less intense. Come, I’m going to draw you.” 

Hannibal lays him down on the sofa and lets him doze, sketching idly while he thinks over how to proceed. It could be that Will just wants to go out and be spoiled, and why shouldn’t he, but it also feels as if he is reading from a script, performing a role that he thinks Hannibal wants. The main problem with that is that Hannibal is discovering that he _does_ want - two days ago he was a fierce advocate for equal rights, and now his mind is filled with collars, nests, appeasement gestures and fierce aggression at the idea of another Alpha ever touching Will again, a man that he now considers to be his, even though it contravenes every rational thought he’s ever had. 

As if to prove the point, Will begins to stir and Hannibal goes to him immediately, placing a hand over his neck. Will becomes clingy and desperate, the heat fever back on his skin, so Hannibal takes him back to bed and makes tender love to him, taking him apart with his mouth and fingers until Will begs to be fucked.

“Present for me,” he says, his voice rough, and Will goes easily to his knees and it feels too good to be real - their voices grow louder together and by the time they come it’s as if they are one being with no beginning or end. Once the knot goes down Hannibal pulls Will to his chest, pressing small kisses to his forehead which are received and returned gladly. They feel impossibly close, and so Hannibal decides to try again.

“What do you want me to buy for you tomorrow? Are you lacking for anything? Or is this just something you enjoy?”

"Oh," Will huffs out a breathy laugh "I was joking of course. You don't have to buy me anything, Alpha." He turns onto his stomach, perching his chin between Hannibal's pectorals and staring at him with those trusting, too-blue-to-be-true eyes that could instantly melt the heart of the most callused man. "Spending the day with you is enough." This is something he has repeated to clients time and time again---it's a great line, meant to make the client feel inexplicably special---but with Hannibal, Will finds that he means it. It brings a mixture of guilt and anguish that Will can't fully comprehend. He searches for the right ways to express to Hannibal that he _is_ different from any client Will has had in the past, and he finds himself coming up short. 

When your only job is making someone feel like they are the only person in the world, it's damn near impossible to express it when they actually _are._

The helpless fear of being disbelieved sinks like an anchor in the pit of his stomach, and he melts back down into the blankets with a discontented groan. "I just want you," he murmurs weepily, his voice ragged with the stark sincerity of his words.


	17. Chapter 17

“You can have me,” Hannibal replies, gathering Will up into his arms again. “I mean that, truly.” He settles Will on his front and moves to sit astride his buttocks, massaging his shoulders gently. He wonder if anyone has ever done this for Will before.

“I would still like to take you out, show you some of the city. I may be compelled to buy you at least a couple of presents.”

Will’s muscles are tight, years of holding onto his tension having set into his body. Hannibal continues until his breathing changes - he lies down next to his mate, there’s no other word for it now, and watches him sleep for a long time before he also dozes off.


	18. Chapter 18

_The room is far too cold, bereft of any furniture, with a single dying lightbulb sputtering overhead. He can hear his own ragged breath above the deep murmurs of Alpha voices, their scents clashing midair and assaulting his nose. A shadowy figure steps forward and forces Will to his knees. When he resists, it earns him a blow so hard he is dashed to the cement floor. Blood spatters beneath him, and he is wrenched roughly into place by his hair. A man appears beneath him and above him, their cocks fully hard as his legs are forced apart. He tries to scream, but his head is wrenched aside, a cock thrust into his face to muffle his sounds._

_"This ain't that bad," a voice says. "You've done it before. Quit your whining."_  
  
_He chokes a little on the Alpha's knot, struggling to get it past his teeth while he feels his hole being pried open by rough fingers from below. Hot tears rush down his face and he tries desperately to stand up, only to be slammed down again, split in two by the Alpha beneath him._

_"There's a good boy," the one with his dick in his mouth says, stroking Will's hair away from his bloodied face as he rocks himself in and out of Will's throat. "What did I tell you guys? The boy's a natural," he guffs, to a round of dark laughter. The Alpha kneeling behind Will flattens his wide chest to Will's back, drawing in a sharp gasp from the Omega._

_"You ready for me, baby?," the man rasps, as if Will can answer._

_Will scrambles away from the second intrusion but he is held fast by huge, rough, arms. Will can only sob as the white-hot flash of pain travels up his spine as the man drives forward, splitting him wide as the Alpha below pounds into him..._

"No! Please!" Will wakes with a scream, scrambling for purchase on the slippery silk sheets. He shoves the body beside him away, and when strong hands capture his scrawny arms he brings a hand across his face, effectively clawing him with his sharp nails. 

Will's eyes fly open wide, and suddenly he is back in the present, back in the arms of an alpha who soothes him and puts gentle pressure on the back of his neck and whispers comforting words, never minding the blood that steadily trickles down one side of his face. 

Will clamps his hands over his mouth in horror. "I'm.....Alpha, I am so, so sorry!" Hot tears spill down his face as he tries to turn away from the man, so that he can get on his hands and knees and present himself in a repentant plea for mercy. "Alpha, please. Forgive me. I'm so sorry." He pushes his hips back and whimpers, waiting for whatever punishment the Alpha sees fit to bestow.


	19. Chapter 19

Hannibal struggles to subdue Will, who is strong despite being thin. He can feel his lip swelling up already, and at least one of the scratches on his face is bleeding.

“Sssshhh sweetheart, come on, I have you, it’s alright,” he murmurs over and over again, waiting for the body in his arms to stop struggling. He realises the irony of the situation - usually when a body in his arms stops struggling, it’s because the other person has died. He kisses Will’s face lovingly but firmly, trying to ground him in the present moment, wiping away his tears.

“You’re here with me, you’re alright. What did you see?"

Will whines, covering his face in his hands. The arms feel soothing and strong and good, confusing what _is_ with how things usually are when something like this happens. "There were so many of them," he chokes out as a wave of relief and anguish washes over him. He sobs freely, for the first time since he can remember, giving into the gentle caresses and sinking against Hannibal, his rail-thin frame wracked with sobs. "There were so many of them. They wouldn't stop. I begged, I cried.... They held me down....and..." His words tumble down like rain--he is unable to catch them and bring them back in. After his sobs ebb and his breathing evens out, he looks into the kind Alpha's eyes, pressing a tender hand to the wound he caused. "Are you okay? That has never happened before, I swear. Please forgive me, Alpha."

“There’s nothing to forgive darling, don’t worry about that. It was just a dream, it’s not real.” Except it wasn’t just a dream, Hannibal knows, but a memory. Cavanaugh is going to take a very, very long time to die, and Hannibal is going to enjoy it. He wonders idly if Will might like to help. He holds the omega even tighter, rocking him gently.

“Do you want to get up for a while? I can make you a hot chocolate.” This is both a distraction for Will and also an opportunity for Hannibal - if the black sedan is gone then they are leaving the house this instant and never coming back.


	20. Chapter 20

Will smiles at this. "I haven't had hot chocolate since I was a kid." With that he happily allows himself to be led to the kitchen, where he sits on the bar stool at the counter while Hannibal prepares breakfast. Will thanks him when he slides the mug of piping hot chocolate to him, and sips at it carefully. After a moment, he looks up at Hannibal questipningly, with a look that says he is thoroughly perplexed. "Alpha....Hannibal, sorry...Hannibal, why didn't you breed me this morning? Did I do something wrong?"

“You woke up screaming from a nightmare, little dove. That isn’t usually a situation in which sex is initiated.” Hannibal plays which Will’s hair almost absentmindedly, before encouraging him to drink more of the chocolate. He sits down next to him and leans over to kiss his shoulder. 

“Would you like to talk about it? Are you feeling better?”

Will pulls away with an expression that Hannibal can't quite read. "I'm sorry, Alpha, I just don't understand. If it's not sex that you want, then what else am I supposed to give?"

Hannibal feels his heart break, a sick feeling spreading through his gut. 

“Bring the hot chocolate with you, were going back to bed for a little while.” He herds Will back to the bedroom, propping up the pillows so that Will can sit comfortably, and drawing the quilt up under his chin. That at least makes Will smile a little bit.

Hannibal sits on top of the covers with a hand on Will’s knee. 

“You don’t have to give me anything,” he says. “The moment I first saw you I thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, and I still do every time I look at you. I just want you to be you, Will. I don’t know how to get you away from Cavanaugh, yet.” He emphasises the last word by squeezing Will’s leg gently.  
“And I don’t know how to begin to make up for the world of cruelty which has been done to you, but if you’ll have me I’d like to give it a try.” 

He sits back against the pillows next to Will and takes the mug from him, taking a sip before handing it back, making an approving face at his own creation.


	21. Chapter 21

  
"You mean..." Will begins, trying desperately to find the right words---it's hard to formulate your own thoughts when you've been severely beaten for having them---"You mean, you like me?" 

He knows the words seem vague, but the heavy blush that springs to his face is as plain as day----this is _like_ like. Not "I want to fuck you" like or "you have a pretty face" like. 

Will sits back with a huff, his face going blank as he takes a moment to process this new and startling information. He sets the mug aside, then slides a playful grin Hannibal's way before tackling him to the bed. 

Hannibal makes a happy, startled noise---was that a laugh?---and Will throws his arms around his neck, mushing his cheek into the Alpha's strong, sleek chest. "I _like_ like you, too," he chirps, covering Hannibal's face with kisses.

“Yes, just a little.” Hannibal laughs, capturing his mouth and running his hands over Will’s back. “Now, go back to sleep for a couple of hours. I want you fully rested before we go out later.”

He tucks Will’s head into his shoulder, content to spend the next hour or so being a human pillow.


	22. Chapter 22

Will feels more exposed in the busy city than perhaps he ever has been----the sights and sounds of metropolitan life are blaring in contrast to Will's quiet, concave world. Their first stop is to a little shop called Ferdinand's, where Will is fitted with several well-made tops and trousers. He tries to resist when Hannibal tells him they are buying everything he tried on because it all looks good, but Hannibal will hear none of it, sliding his shiney black credit card across the glass countertop with a smile. 

People on the street stop and stare---but it's not just Will they are gawking at this time. Will ogles the reflection of themselves walking hand-in-hand, Hannibal nearly two heads taller, dressed in a gray and black three-piece and a long overocat and Will in his fresh new gray pants and tan vest. They really do make a ridiculously beautiful couple, and Will's heart soars a bit higher every time he hears a passerby say something like "Wow, look at them," or "What a lucky Alpha" or "Damn, that is a fine Omega". The collar takes on a new meaning. It doesn't feel as heavy, suddenly, when being worn beside an Alpha who obviously so loves and cares for him. For all anybody knows, they are just a happily mated couple enjoying an afternoon stroll.

Suddenly his eyes light up when they pass by an aquarium, and Will is like an impatient kid, tugging on Hannibal's arm and begging to be taken inside.


	23. Chapter 23

  
Inside, Will watches the fish, and Hannibal watches Will; his face lights up and the trauma of the last however many years just seems to melt away. Hannibal can almost see their next house - there will be an entire internal wall which is just aquarium. Fish suit Hannibal as pets - they aren’t needy, and don’t foul the carpet, and he knows that Will will take excellent care of them. The neglected often take the best care of others.

“Remember the names of all the ones you like,” he says, kissing Will’s temple as he stares at a tank filled with Angel fish. “One day I’ll buy them for you.” Will gives him a bright genuine smile that does strange things to Hannibal’s knees.

Hannibal isn’t one to often eat out, but today seems like a day to make exceptions. They find a table at a classy Italian restaurant, the kind with no prices on the menu. Will is in good spirits until the waiter arrives, at which point he withdraws into himself completely, bowing his head and staring at the floor.

“Will? Are you ready to order?” Hannibal asks, trying to make eye contact.

Will admits to himself that it has been fun playing pretend. He has thoroughly enjoyed being spoiled, having all but seamlessly blended into the framework of a society that baulks at the very notion of what he truly is. He feels like a spy that has invaded the enemy camp, or better yet one of those sleeper agents from the spy movies that Cavanaugh loves to watch. 

But the menu has him stumped as to how to proceed. Feeling found out and defeated, he sits back in his chair, folding it neatly and sliding it onto the table with a slight smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Alpha," he says incredulously, as if Hannibal has asked something outrageous. "There aren't any pictures."

Nice work, thinks Hannibal. As a predator he has a keen eye for behaviour, and he saw Will absorb the words on the page. As a believer in equal rights, he did forget that Will isn’t meant to know how to read; he takes in the waiter, who appears young and trendy. Time to have a laugh then. 

Omegas are not meant to order for themselves in restaurants either, or to speak to anyone except their Alpha in public.

“I’m so sorry my dove, I forgot to explain the menu to you.” He reels off the list of food, giving explanations where necessary, stroking Will’s hand reassuringly all the while.

“Osso bucco for me, thank you. Will, what would you like?” 

The waiter freezes, stunned.

Without missing a beat, Will's face lights up, eyes sparkling mischeviously at the Alpha. "Prenderò i Frutti di Mare per favore." 

The slack-jawed expression on the waiter is priceless, and Hannibal's eyebrows disappear into his bangs. Will can even detect a sweet tinge of surprise coming through in the Alpha's scent. When the waiter leaves, Will calmly takes a sip of his wine. "I'm high priced for a reason," he explains without needing to be asked. "Cavanaugh takes me with him on many of his business trips. There are others in his..."collection" here in the States of course, but I am his preferred travel companion. I pick up on all sorts of interesting tidbits abroad, including the language. And besides," he adds, stuffing the end of a bread stick in his mouth and swirling his tongue suggestively around it. "Nobody wants to fuck a whore that can't understand them." 

With that he snaps the tip off the breadstick and grins impishly at Hannibal as he chews.


	24. Chapter 24

  
“Don’t call yourself a whore, that’s not what you are,” Hannibal chides him gently, stroking the back of his hand. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the shiny black car pull up next to the restaurant, blacked out windows concealing whoever is inside. This situation needs to be resolved, quickly.

“Does Cavanaugh know you can read?”

Their main course arrives and Hannibal pours Will a small glass of wine, which is met with another shocked look from the waiter.

Will nods. "He doesn't mind it, actually. So long as I am discreet."

There is a sudden change in Hannibal's scent, the hand that is holding Will's is still gentle, but tense. Will tries to meet the Alpha in the eyes as he asks softly, "Hey... Is everything alright?"

“Everything is fine, darling. I think your friends have come to check up on us.” He gently moves Will’s glass of wine out of sight behind a menu, before pulling the omega into his lap. He picks up Will’s fork and begins to feed him, creating a much more traditional scene than they had been previously. Hannibal holds on to Will a little too tightly, trying not to let his inner emotions show through and probably failing, a rare slip for a man who has the trademark on poker faces.

“If I could rid you of him, would you let me?” He asks, kissing Will’s cheek in between mouthfuls. 

The door opens, and in walk Cavanaugh’s men. They nod at Hannibal, friendly enough, and he returns the gesture. There doesn’t seem to be an atmosphere, and it is highly likely that they are just checking up on Will, who doesn’t not seem perturbed, but even so Hannibal readies himself.


	25. Chapter 25

Will snuggles in a little deeper to Hannibal, taking another bite of food and dabbing his mouth before answering. "That's Jason and Blake," he says beneath his breath. "They do this sort of thing all the time. Cavanaugh likes to insure his property is protected. They might not have liked the whole reading in public bit, to be honest...or the drinking in public bit...." Will reaches for his wine glass. He knows the men haven't let their eyes off him once yet, even as they slide into a corner table and take up their menus. He is already in trouble: they will no doubt report Will's activities to Cavanaugh and there will be hell to pay when he gets back, but what the hell. In for a penny....he plucks the glass from the table proudly, making a show of enjoying every last drop, eyes closing, his cheeks flushed, letting out a quietly salacious moan. He revels in the scattered whispers and stares from some of the other patrons who have stopped what they are doing to witness the brazen act of Omegan defiance.

He is going to ignore Hannibal's earlier question, for both their sakes. There is no getting rid of Cavanaugh. Hannibal is not the first client to offer killing him, or buying Will, or both. It's a lovely gesture filled with empty hope that will only leave Hannibal dead and Will wishing he were. 

"I'll be right back," he whispers, giving Hannibal a kiss on the cheek. "I've got to go visit the little Omega's room." 

He heads to the back, brushing past the two Alpha guards very much on purpose, as a kind of "I see what you're doing now see if I give a damn" gesture. They are harmless for the most part--both are happiky mated men with big families who feel a genuine sense of duty protecting their boss' assets. Good for them. It's easy, steady money. 

Will relieves himself and spends a little time staring in the mirror, rearranging the tendrils of hair that frame his face and running a hand over the fine fabric of his brand new outfit, appreciating the way it hugs his lithe form. He tugs the vest back into place and gives himself a proud smile, head held high, and turns to strut out like the god's gift he is. 

In an instant, a wave of despair hits him as a huge Alpha barges in, capturing Will's arm in a vice grip and forcing him backwards into the furthest stall. "Hey, little butterfly," Philip cooes, his breath spiced with the scent of a recently enjoyed cigar. "How are you doing, love? You having a good time?" 

He locks the door behind them, depositing Will onto the closed toilet seat and crouching in front of him, teeth bared in a horrifying grin.


	26. Chapter 26

  
“I’m having a great time thanks,” Will replies flatly, with not quite enough attitude to be told off for sass, but definitely not the picture of Omegan subservience. 

“Now if you don’t mind Philip, my client is waiting?” He manages to sound bored, but his heart is beating out of his chest, hard enough that he’s surprised the noise doesn’t come out of his mouth. He goes to stand up and push past Philip, hopeful that if he’s confident enough it might just work.

Philip chuckles darkly, angling himself away as Will stands up only to grab a fistful of his hair and slam him backwards into the wall. In an instant, his hands are everywhere, pawing at Will's new clothes so harshly he can hear the threads tear. His face buried in Will's neck, nosing his clavicle and scenting him like a grizzly bear would a honey hive, the information travelling to his hindbrain and conjuring a low, guttural growl from deep in his chest. 

"Fucking trollup," he rasps. "You really _are_ enjoying your time with him, aren't you? One day out with Papi and little William thinks he's special. Reading, William? _DRINKING_ , William? Did you really think your Daddy's just gonna let that fly?"

“He’s not my fucking daddy,” Will hisses, and he headbutts Phillip hard in the chin. It probably hurts Will more than it does Phillip but it feels good anyway. Phillip has him pinned down hard and he knows there’s nothing he can do, he’s as good as killed himself, but he feels some of his old fight come back to himself, and it’s glorious.

Instantly Philip's hand is at Will's throat, picking him up so that his feet tangle as Will grapples for air. "You always do this," He rasps in Will's ear, licking a wide stripe up his neck as he yanks down Will's trousers, tossing them to the floor. "You press me. You make me treat you like the fucking animal you are." He throws him to the ground, leering down at him as Will coughs uncontrollably, sucking breath in faster than his lungs can can take it. 

The sound of metal reverbertates off the walls as Philip removes his belt. "Turn over, whore. Present!"


	27. Chapter 27

Every instinct Will has tells him to get back to Hannibal - he tries to project his distress outwards in the futile hope that the Alpha will come and save him - he won’t, they aren’t bonded and he’ll be none the wiser - and so he takes the path of least resistance, turning over onto his front, his face on the cold tiles of the bathroom. The smell is a disgusting combination of piss and bleach; he closes his eyes and makes himself imagine the man he considers to be his real Alpha, and the cold disgusting tiles melt away, becoming the mahogany wood of Hannibal’s sitting room, a rug warm and clean smelling against his cheek. The fire crackles and the hands on him are gentled and wanted, sweet words whispered in his ear in a honeyed voice.

"Good boy," comes the gruff words in his ear as the Alpha bares down, his weight nearly crushing the omega's much smaller frame. Cold, meaty fingers pry his hole open, jabbing him in quick, methodical thrusts until his entrance weeps slick. He lines himself up, grabbing Will's hips as Will winces, waiting for the inevitable to come. 

The hands on him still, and when the Alpha seems frozen in time long enough for Will to catch his breath, he looks back at him questioningly. 

"Turn over," Philip commands. He doesn't wait for compliance before flipping Will onto his back on the hard tile and grabbing his wrists above his head with one hand. "I wanna look at you." Philip kisses him feverishly, forcing Will's head in place as he parts Will's lips with a wide tongue. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he murmurs, his voice suddenly gentle.

He drops his head momentarily, nosing Will's flat chest and breathing out a long, ragged sigh. After a long pause, he pushes to his knees, giving Will a slap on his bare ass. "Get up. Go on. Get out of here."


	28. Chapter 28

Hannibal is just beginning to wonder if Will is alright, when the man himself arrives back at the table flustered and tearful. His shirt is untucked, and the smell of unknown Alpha hits Hannibal’s nose, sulphuric and revolting.

“Come here,” Hannibal mutters, drawing him into a hug. “Tell me what happened,” he says, quiet and dangerous, into Will’s ear.

Will tries desperately to control his shaking. He tugs on Hannibal's sleeve, hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "Can we just get out of here?", he begs, his voice small and quivering. "Please?"

“Alright, it’s alright,” Hannibal motions for the bill and pays it quickly, keeping Will tucked under one arm. They walk back to the car, the joyful atmosphere of the rest of the day utterly destroyed. Once they are inside the vehicle Hannibal takes both of Will’s hands in his. 

“Will you have to tell me what happened,” he says as the omega starts to break down. “You have to tell me or I - don’t look at that, it doesn’t matter,” he says as Will starts at the sight of the black sedan pulling into the parking lot behind them, waiting for them to leave. “You have to tell me what happened or I can’t do anything about it.”

"That's just the thing," Will manages between sharp breaths. "What is it that you think you can do? These are BAD MEN, Hannibal! What, you think you can ...wisk me away? ....That Cavanaugh won't hunt me down.... like a bloodhound? Because he will!" Will grabs Hannibal's shoulders, pulling so hard Hannibal nearly ends up in the passenger's seat with him, eyebrows spooning upwards in fear, a tear freely splashing onto the console. "And he will /kill/ you. And..." ---here, Will shakes his head-- "...and I can't have that, Alpha. I-I WON'T have that." 

Will's head dips aside suddenly, throat flashing, skin flushed as he slides his eyes closed. "I love you."

“I can do a great many things,” Hannibal says, tipping up Will’s chin so he can make eye contact. “Things that Cavanaugh has no idea about. I love you too, Will.” He kisses Will’s forehead just once. “What say he get rid of our tail, hmm? I’m thoroughly bored of them.”

Will nods sharply, swiping at his tears with his sleeve and grins. 

The Bentley can easily do 160mph on the highway, but what it really accells at is manuverability. Hannibal weaves in and out of heavy downtown traffic at a liesurely pace, glancing into his rearview mirror every so often at the boxy black sedan as it struggles to keep up. They definitely know that something is up now. Will glances back behind them as Philip and company veer left down a side street and roll out of sight. 

"They're going to try to cut you off at the junction," Will warns. He has been in the back seat of many chases and almost knows thier moves by heart. "Jason is usually the driver. Philip is shotgun. They will both have pistols. Blake takes the back seat. He'll have a shot gun and an Uzzi." 

Hannibal nods. Honing in on the exit ramp going the opposite direction, he puts an arm across Will and tells him to hold on tight. Within seconds, they are airborn, cutting across the ramp and making it to the grassy easement, narrowly missing a truck as it blares its horn. 

Will squeezes his eyes shut tight, wrapping himself around the Alpha and focusing on the roar of the engine as the car accellerates around the corner and jumps onto the highway. 

As soon as the wheels hit pavement again, they are off like a shot. Will wonders if Hannibal is at all concerned about getting pulled over, but the eagle-eyed expression on the Alpha says that this is not his first car chase. 

Will's eyes narrow and he flashes Hannibal an impressed grin. Who even is this guy anyway?

After several tense minutes of Will staring straight out the back window and the black sedan failing to reappear, Will slides back into his seat with a relieved huff.

"So," He begins, crossing his arms as Hannibal winds the bentley back to just above the speed limit. "You can do a 'great many things' huh, Alpha?"

“Perhaps you believe me a little more now,” Hannibal replies, sounding arch but with a smile in his eyes. He takes small glimpses at Will while the road allows.  
“How would you feel about getting that collar off?”


	29. Chapter 29

  
Will touches the smooth metal around his throat, and suddenly his eyes widen. "Oh shit! I almost forgot about the tracer!" With panic rising ever higher, Will tugs at the ring, growing restless in his seat. "Hannibal, we have to ... how do we get this thing off??!!"

Hannibal has the ability to radiate calm. He takes another side long look at Will before a smile creeps across his face. “You panic too much, Will.”  
The Bentley exits the highway, then takes another side road, before stopping in front of a small parade of shops. One of the shops has a black front, darkened windows, and a faded sign which reads J Hall and Sons, Master Jewellers. There doesn’t seem to be much mastery about the sign, Will thinks to himself sitting in the front seat.

Hannibal leads the way inside. Behind the counter there is a small man with greying hair, wearing a monocle type device and working on an engagement ring. He looks up irritatedly when the bell rings, but when he sees who it is his face splits into a huge grin.

“Hannibal!” He exclaims. First name terms, thinks Will, impressive. 

“Whatever brings you to my shop? I haven’t seen you for years.”

“James I’m in a bit of a bind. Will hear needs to be rid of this collar, and quickly. It needs to be destroyed, do you understand?”

The man looks at Will pityingly for a moment before nodding. 

“It’s not easy for your kind, is it my boy? Am I to understand that we are expecting company, Hannibal?”

“Yes,” Hannibal replies, sounding genuinely sorry. “And they will be armed.”

“That’s alright,” James says merrily. “So are they.” He gestures towards a side room, where five enormously well muscled men are lounging around. One of them waves cheerily at Will, who waves back before he realises what he’s doing.

“James and his sons do a lot of work for omega rights,” Hannibal explains. “Some might use the word vigilante, I suppose. Either way Cavanaugh’s boys will have a tough time of it if they come here.”

“Quite right,” James chimes in. He has returned with a small silver tool kit. He pats the work bench gently.

“Come and sit up here, young man, and just keep looking straight at the wall, thank you.”

There is a loud grinding noise and a couple of flashes of bright light, but after a few minutes Will feels the collar fall away. Hannibal beams, utterly delighted.

“You’ll invoice me I trust,” Hannibal says, shaking James’ hand.

“You can be damn sure of that,” James replies, and with that they are back in the Bentley and on the road.


	30. Chapter 30

  
Will is asleep when they drive up to the Cliff house. He had practically passed out a few minutes after leaving the jewelry shop and had been dead to the world ever since. Hannibal carries him into the house, depositing him on the overstuffed bed and quietly pulling off his shoes.

Will makes a grumpy groaning noise and tries to slap Hannibal away, rolling onto his side and smacking his lips as he buries his face into Hannibal's pillow. Hannibal laughs fondly beneath his breath, pulling the soft blanket up higher around Will's shoulders. 

Then he pads off into the bar area for a much deserved drink. About one and a half toddies in, Hannibal feels the heavy weight of sleep dragging him down into its welcome embrace, and doesn't quite manage to convince his body to get up and join Will on the bed. 

Will wakes in a strange house, in a strange bed that's not strange at all because it smells like Hannibal. It is still night outside when he sits up on the edge of the bed, feeling the sweat and need of his heat beginning to saturate his clothes. Suddenly he is all too hot, stripping away the damp garments and following the scent of his Alpha out to the den. 

He knows what he wants, and if the Alpha is asleep, that's not about to stop him. He drops to his knees between Hannibal's warm thighs, nosing the fabric and letting out high pitched whimpers as he feverishly works Hannibal's fly open. 

Hannibal starts with a gasp, his eyes flying open wide to the sensation of being sucked deep down into the perfect, wet cavern of Will's mouth, his long, soft tongue battering against his cock.

He should probably stop this from happening but it’s too good, so he just slides a hand into Will’s hair instead, guiding his movements and making it perfect. Will is a quick study and he learns what Hannibal likes quickly, increasing the suction and moving faster until Hannibal feels the start of his orgasm and he has to pull Will off. Will is still in heat, and only a knot will do. 

“You’re so perfect for me,” Hannibal proclaims, sounding almost overwhelmed, as he leads a clingy but smiling Will back to the bedroom. Once there he lays him down and worships him properly, paying attention to every inch of skin, licking his sensitive nipples until his back arches off the bed. Will grabs Hannibal’s arms and begs and pleads, but Hannibal isn’t done with him yet, going down to take his hard cock in his mouth. 

He isn’t as good as this as Will, he can tell, but he has enthusiasm on his side. The weight and size of Will’s cock in his mouth is grounding, making him almost mindless, and he gets braver as he goes, taking more and more into his throat. Above him the noises become more desperate - Will writhes and moans, going from pulling at Hannibal’s hair to holding his hand, unable to be still.

“Hann....I...” is all the warning Hannibal gets before Will comes hard, and he feels immensely pleased with himself.

“Now you’re ready for me to fuck you,” he says while Will is still panting, and the omega gives him a half laugh. 

“Turn over for me but don’t raise your hips.” Hannibal commands. 

In this position it feels close and hot and filthy, their bodies flush together. Hannibal can’t move very much, but that’s perfect, he wants to draw this out as long as possible. He sucks at Will’s now exposed mating gland, rolling his hips slowly but powerfully, enjoying how Will grabs at the quilt, going between open mouthed pleasure to almost tearful exquisite ecstasy. 

“I’m going to bite you when I come,” Hannibal tells him gently. 

“It won’t be long now because you’re so perfect. I’m going to protect you. I love you.”

Hannibal pulls one of Will’s legs out to the side to accommodate the knot - Will cries out in relief when it goes in, and then again in pain when Hannibal bores down on his mating gland, his orgasm coming in slow, rolling waves that travel down his arms and legs.


	31. Chapter 31

"What do you mean, you _lost_ him?" Cavanaugh grinds out. 

Philip works his jaw as the other two stammer and sway and try desperately to make excuses, thier words colliding midair.

"Mr. Cavanaugh, it was like this---"

"---Traffic was thick----"

"---took off down an embankment---" 

Cavanaugh pinches the bridge of his nose, the fury building until his shoulders shake. He lets out a roar that pierces straight through the quivering men and nearly sends his fist straight through his solid mahogany desk--it lands with a **_CRACK_**. 

"Shut up before I cut out your useless tongues!," he bellows. Like the calm that washes over the ocean after a hurricane, his rage subsides, the cool, stern mask drops back into place, and his dark geeen eyes land on his second-in-command. 

"What about the signal from the collar?' 

"We lost the signal about two miles from Portsmouth on 161 North." 

"Jesus Mary and Joseph," Cavanaugh rasps, running a hand through the short spikes atop his head. "Something's happened to the collar then."

Philip nods. "Destroyed. We located the jeweler nearest the last signal, and---"

Here, Jason interjects, his scent giving off a desperate, sour tone that makes Philip's stomach churn. "We tried to shake them down for information, sir, but the owner had five big guys in there, armed to the teeth."

Here, Philip pulls out a paper bag from his jacket, carefully unfolding it as his suboordinate bungles his words. He slips his hand inside and pulls out the gold ring, once smooth and shiney and new, now shattered and broken, the wires exposed and completely shredded. It still smells a bit like Will, and Philip indulges himself in a closer whiff. 

"I don't want that fucking thing," Cavanaugh growls. " _I want my fucking property back._ And you boys best hope you can find them before that sly piece of shit put his mark on him."

Philip's eyes suddenly flash wide. "You think---Sir, would Dr. Lecter--?"

"Of course he fucking would," The big man gruffs."Hell, you tried with your first go at him while he was wearing the thing, and you got what you rightfully deserved."

Instinctively, Philip's hand goes to his broken fang, running over the jagged stub, remembering vividly the anticipation of sinking his mark into soft omegan flesh only to get a mouthful of gold-coated steel. He'd been out of his mind to try. 

"We'll find him, Boss," he says resolutely, turning towards the door. There is no time to stand around bickering. 

"Fucking right you will," Cavanaugh bellows behind him as the lesser Alphas fall into line behind Philip on his way down the hall. Cavanaugh's words follow him like a restless ghost. "It'll be your knots under my kitchen knife if you come back without him!"


	32. Chapter 32

Hannibal's chest is wide and warm and Will loves the way his chest hair tickles his nose. He lets out an indulgent moan and buries his face into it, laughing softly beneath his breath as Hannibal's hand reaches up to cup his face. 

"I'm still so hot, Daddy," Will whines, a heavy blush settling on his cheeks as he wiggles his way up Hannibal's body to roll himself against the Alpha's slowly deflating knot. His chest is flushed, misted with sweat and streaked with come. They have absolutely wrecked the bed sheets, but neither one seems to mind. 

Will leads Hannibal's hand to his stomach, flattening his palm against the solid bump Hannibal's come has made of it. "I wish I could give you a baby," Will sighs. "But this full feeling is close to it."

Hannibal feels the roundness and allows himself to indulge in the thought of a small person running to him, hands out and shouting ‘Papa’. It’s a nice dream, but a dream is all it is.

“I am already blessed just to have you,” he says, pulling Will to him. He can feel the beginnings of their bond, like smoke curling upwards, becoming steadily stronger. He can feel Will’s love and trust, and no shortage of relief, but also fear, and the memory of pain. Some of it not too distant. 

“We will have no secrets from each other soon enough,” he says, checking the bite mark on Will’s neck. Really it should have had a stitch, but Hannibal likes the idea of it scarring.

“I can already feel you, around the edges of my mind. Before the end of the day you will know why I am not afraid of Cavanaugh, and why he should absolutely be afraid of me.” He holds Will even tighter, placing a hand over his neck, as if to secure Will to him. 

“I want you to know that I would never hurt you. Do you understand? Can you feel that?”

Will relaxes further into his mate with a reassuring, hopeful smile. He brings a hand to his neck, half expecting the familiar feel of cold metal, his eyebrows twitching downward when his fingers hit nothing, swiping at the blood and tilting his head questioningly at Hannibal. He dares not ask yet another favour from the man who has so kindly given him everything, including his life back, but he feels so exposed, shameful....wrong. 

The much older man chuckles softly, pulling Will down to gently lap at the wound. It feels inexplicably good, the closeness, and Will draws in a sharp gasp as a fresh wave of pleasure sweeps over him. He parts his legs and easily lowers himself onto Hannibal's quickly hardening cock. It slides in with no resistance, twitching upward into his prostate, increasing the pressure and fullness from his belly. 

"I've never felt so close to anyone," he murmurs against Hannibal's mouth, beginning a slow, lazy rhythm that draws a deep rumble from the Alpha's chest. "It's as if I've gone about my entire life, fractured, until this moment." 

He rises slowly with a roll of his hips, lifting himself onto Hannibal's knot and swallowing him deep into his channel. Hannibal watches in awe, reaching between them to stroke Will's gorgeous cock. 

They come together, a slow, building flame that bursts over the edges of their ecstacy and seals them together once more, with Hannibal rolling Will beneath him and sinking his Alpha fangs into the mark, bursting forth fresh blood as Will cries out in pain and pleasure. 

When the tie fades, they take thier time cleaning each other up and talking about life and all the possibilities the future holds while buried in copious amounts of bath bubbles. Hannibal strips the ruined bedsheets and tosses them in the wash. When he returns from the laundry room, he finds Will dripping wet, a towel around his hips, peering down curiously at the open door of the basement.

"What's down there?," Will says, in a voice that suggests that somehow, some way, he already knows.


	33. Chapter 33

  
The address Dr. Lecter listed on the hotel registry is a huge mansion tucked back aways into the woods. It definitely looks like something an exhorbitantly rich genuis would own, and the mail on the front door confirms that it is indeed the property of the man in question. 

"Holy fucking hell," Jason drawls, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. "Would ya look at this place? This this shit even for real?" He reaches up to run his fingers over a crystal chandelier as Blake scrambles up the winding mahogany staircase and yells "Holy shit, he's got a whole library!" 

"One down here too," Jason remarks. "What kinda pompous asshole needs two libraries?" 

"The intelligent kind," Philip grumbles. He rounds the corner as the two Alphas behind him proceed to overturn the place in search of clues as to the good Doctor's whereabouts. The kitchen is pristine, with not a speck of dust on its stainless steel counters. He cracks open the wine cooler, locating a bottle of Armand de Brignac and popping the cork with his pocket knife. 

He kicks off his boots on the way to the den and lands hard into the overstuffed leather armchair, running an appreciative hand over the fine craftsmanship. He takes in this particular room, with its masculine furniture and tall windows, draped in red. He could easily envision himself owning a place like this. He wonders briefly if Will might like it, too, and takes a careful swig of champagne as he feels his stomach wrench. Whatever this emotion is, he fully plans on drowning it. 

"Phil, man, what are you doing?," Jason says as he cranes his head in. "We're supposed to be looking for the runaway bride before Dr. Smooth-hands gets any ideas."

"Too late for that," Philip gruffs in between swallows his gaze pinned across the room.   
  
Jason scoffs and takes a moment to scratch his balding head. "Dude, I don't know what you're talking about.... how can you possibly know that?" 

"Will is in heat for at least another 48 hours. He's unmarked. He's uncollared. You do the math." Philip blames all this shit on Cavanaugh---would it really have been that bad to bind himself to Will, the man he claimed was his wife???---Cavanaugh was always watching that precious bottom line. He knew that Will wouldn't be worth much of anything if claimed--- worse yet, if he did send Will to work, he'd have to contend with all the filthy details of whatever the client made Will do---and Cavanaugh would not be able tolerate a taste of his own medicine.

"Man, I don't get you," Jason murmurs shaking his head. "I know you carry a torch for the kid, and it blows my mind that you're not going crazy trying to find him. I mean, if it were /my/ mate and another Alpha so much as looked his way, I'd-----" 

" ** _I said it's already done_**!," Philip roars, sending the champagne soaring into the far wall. It explodes with a deafening POP! 

Jason's eyes fly open and he staggers backwards. "Okay, okay boss. Sorry..." 

"If we go anywhere....if we try hunting him down, it will have been too late." In his absentminded rummaging around, he's stumbled across an unopened box of fine cuban cigars. He tears it open, plucks one out and lights it with the box of matches from the opposite drawer. He leans back, setting his socked feet on Hannibal's desk and takes a long lingering puff. The warm ash floods his mouth, bringing the boiling blood in his veins down to a simmer as he continues, "A place like this has no end of security features. He'll get a notification. He'll know we're looking for him. We're gonna visit every goddamn room in this shit castle, set off every alarm, upturn every desk and drawer, shatter every priceless vase, and then we're going to start ourselves a little bonfire. 

"Damn...okay," Jason mutters. 

"We'll smoke him out," Philip explains. After a pause, he finally turns in the chair to glare at the stammering man. "Well? Get to fuckin' work and let's get me that Omega back!" When the sound of pounding boots disappears, he drops shoulders, switching between staring aporeciatively down at the cigar and taking liesurely puffs. 

Whether or not Will is claimed is a moot point to Philip. The mating bond breaks as soon as one mate dies---and Dr. Lecter _will_ pay for this massive fucking headache.


	34. Chapter 34

_From Ch 32...._

_Hannibal strips the ruined bedsheets and tosses them in the wash. When he returns from the laundry room, he finds Will dripping wet, a towel around his hips, peering down curiously at the open door of the basement._

_Hannibal freezes._

_"What's down there?," Will says, in a voice that suggests that somehow, some way, he already knows._

******

Hannibal looks at Will, taking in his body language. The omega doesn’t seem distressed, and most likely he is waiting for Hannibal to confirm what he already knows. 

“Equipment,” he begins. “Tools which help me to do what I do. You look like a man with a fair idea of what that is.” He meant what he said earlier, he wouldn’t hurt Will, but he would kill him if this went badly. He prized freedom too highly, and he’d do it even if it would hurt. 

At that moment Hannibal’s phone buzzed with an alert.

“Cavanaugh’s men are in the house,” he says after watching the black and white video on his screen for a moment. 

“I have to go. I need to know what you are going to do, Will.”

Will switches gears immediately, snapping the door closed and crossing the room to peer down at the phone, the former matter all but forgotten an instant. "The house?," he repeats. "What house?" Before waiting for an answer, he switches gears, trotting off to the bedroom to rummage through the shopping bags. Pulling clothes over his wet body, he announces, "I'm coming with you, of course!"

“You’ll do no such thing, I won’t put you in danger so soon after I got you out,” Hannibal replies, immense relief surging through him.

“Come here.” He embraces Will tightly, taking in his scent.

“I have to go and deal with this. I want you to stay here and relax - when I come back we’ll go and buy you a new collar, and we can start our life together."

Will's eyebrows furrow, and he opens his mouth, drawing in a quick breath as if gearing up to say something, then snaps his jaw shut, thinking better of it, and gives Hannibal a sharp nod. 

"I know what it is you do," He says carefully, pulling Hannibal closer in and nosing the spot just beneath his ear. "And I'm glad for it. I imagine you have done things like this before... but... I need you to promise me to be extra careful this time. For my sake."

“Nothing can keep me from coming back to you, Will. I love you, more than anything in the world.”

Hannibal dresses sharp, naturally, both style wise and also in the fact that there are four blades concealed about his person. Even though he will be outnumbered, he has the home advantage in that he knows his house intimately, and his new friends do not. He trusts they haven’t found the basement yet. They will be closely acquainted with it before the end. 

He and Will share a lingering kiss, before he turns and gets into his car. He doesn’t look back as he drives away, even if the bond does tug at his emotions. Will is safe, and that’s all that matters.

The house appears quiet at he pulls up. He parks in the street, not wanting to betray his presence, and goes in through the back door. He can smell the intruders, their Alpha scent lying heavy on the air. At least two are still upstairs, and he can hear the sounds of the first floor bedrooms being turned over. Time for some sport.


	35. Chapter 35

Will tries his best to stay put. He really does. But one can only find so much relief in endlessly pacing back and forth when thier mate is walking straight into a death trap. 

"Fuck this," Will murmurs and throws on a coat and the shiney new trail boots that Hannibal bought him with the promise of a future hiking adventure. 

The keys are hidden in a copy of Dante's Inferno on the bookshelf near the fireplace. Will is stunned at the accuracy of thier bond. He knows that surely, Hannibal knows what he is planning but it has been a few hours and he won't have the time or the option of turning back just to stop Will from following. 

He locks the house up carefully and crosses the driveway to the garage, where an older model BMW, kept in immaculate condition, is waiting. Will has no idea how he is going to find his mate, and yet he does, and it is the most confusing feeling in the world. The car's unassuming looks are to distract from the space-age hardware inside. As soon as the engine rumbles to life, several screens light up and soft classical music comes pouring out of the speakers. Will lets out a slow shuddering breath, checks his grip on the leather steering wheel and rolls off down the driveway.

The GPS has a few different directions leading to random houses scattered in the same radius, but the thick blue line is well travelled, the directions above it labelled "Baltimore House" ---it doesn't take a genius to decipher which location Hannibal would put on a hotel register. 

He touches that option as he starts off down the road. He's never been on the driver's seat before, but he is a quick study, so his movements are a little jerky as he sets off in the direction of 'home'. 

  
*****

Philip scents the rival Alpha before he even lays eyes on him, and the smell confirms his fears. Hannibal positively reeks of Will. There is that unexplanable feeling again, wrenching his gut, and he instinctively snarls. He radios Jason and Blake to come meet thier guest downstairs. He plucks a decorarive hatchet off the wall, vaguely surprised to find it sharp, and struts off to the living room. 

"Hello again, Doctor," he murmurs. "Sorry to disturb you on your honeymoon. How is our little butterfly getting on, now that you've netted him?"


	36. Chapter 36

  
Hannibal holds his own for as long as he can. There are numeroud assailants, that much Will can pick up through the mating bond--three or four at least. He swallows dryly, trying desperately to keep his attention on the road as fresh information floods his brain. Hannibal is resilient and even stronger than the usual Alpha of his size. Philip doesn't have speed on his side, but he does have considerable strength, not to mention firepower. And backup. 

Out of nowhere the sensation of something heavy breaking over Hannibal's head has Will screaming. The car veers off course and he jerks it back onto the road, swallowing big gulps of air. 

"Stay up," Will begs to no-one. "Stay standing. Stay alive. I'm coming, Hannibal. I swear. I'm on my way."

****

Philip wipes the blood from his lip as he waits for Hannibal to stagger to his feet. "You just don't quit, Doc," he rasps, taking the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. "Thing is, I don't get what he sees in you. We're not that different, you and I, unless you've got an elephant cock or something. Even then, I'd probably have you beat." 

Hannibal swings wide, sending a well-aimed blow into Philip's kidney. Jason has scrambled over by now, and subverts Hannibal's attack by staging his own. Jason gets thrown into a massive glass case that shatters on impact, and he staggers forward, shards sticking out everywhere. He reaches behind him with a roar, pulling out a lengthy piece from his shoulder and flinging at Hannibal, who easily avoids it with a cobra-like sidesway. 

"Help me understand, Doc," Philip says as he plucks the discarded hatchet from the ground, circling Hannibal like a wounded bear. "I've always been decent to him. He's seemed pleased enough with my performance when we've fucked. What makes you so goddamn special, huh?" The hatchet goes flying, and Hannibal blocks it with the flat top of a sidetable. It is stuck fast. "Why does he so willingly spread his legs for you?"

“I never made him feel that I was entitled to him,” Hannibal grits out. “I’m also very good looking.”

Philip surges forward with a deafening roar, teeth bared, jagged fang flashing. Just then a shot rings out, making the Alphas freeze. "Hold it!", Chase cries out from the doorway. One of his arms is wrapped around Will's slight shoulders as the other holds his reuger high in the air. 

Will gives Hannibal a helpless, apologetic smile as the gun is leveled at his temple, still pulling against the Alpha who holds him back.

"Look who came to play," Chase quips, and Philip lets out a huge sigh of relief, strolling towards the omega as if he was the one Will came for.

"There you are!" he exclaims, taking Will in his arms and swatting Chase and his gun away like a pesky housefly. "Get that thing out of his face." Seeing that fun is over for now, Jason flashes a knowing glance at Hannibal and trains his own pistol at him with a shrug. 

"Well that sucks," he gruffs. "We were just gettin' started."

"Aw shut up," Philip mutters, tucking Will's head under his chin even as the much smaller man struggles. "He was wiping the floor with you. You're lucky you didn't end up like Sawyer there." He nods to the body on the floor, then turns his attention to the fresh wound on Will's neck, lightly tsking as if the omega'd been running and stubbed his toe. "Look what he did to you, sweet thing," he cooes. 

William flashes a dangerous glare up at him before sinking his teeth into Philip's thumb. The Alpha lets out a pained howl and backhands him so hard he crumbles to the floor. When Hannibal starts towards him, Jason pulls the hammer back on his gun with an audible "click" and warningly shakes his head at him.

Philip has had just about enough of this bullshit. He hauls Will up by the collar as the omega lets out a terrified squeal, slamming his eyes shut as the lumbering Alpha zip-ties his wrists together behind his back. 

"Alright," Philip rasps into his ear. "You and your little boy-toy here are becoming a real pain in my ass. If Cavanaugh didn't want you both back, I'd take him out in front of you right now." With this, a sickeningly triumphant grin crosses his face and he licks a wide stripe up Will's open mating gland. Will whimpers. "But the boss has something special planned for you." 

Philip has something special of his own in mind as well, but nobody needs to know that right now. He orders his two suboordiantes to load them into the van. Hannibal is unceremoniously dumped face-first into the back while Will is shoved into the seat facing him.

"Hannibal, I'm so sorry," Will murmurs, dipping his head. "Are you alright?," he asks in a small voice. 

From the middle seat, Philip lets out a perfectly annoyed snort. "You nearly bite off my damn hand and then ask if _he's_ alright?" 

Will rolls his eyes. "It's a finger--don't be overdramatic."

Philip raises the back of his hand towards Will's face but lowers it when Will winces, the point clearly having been made.

“I’m fine sweet boy,” Hannibal says as the van door slams shut and and the engine rumbles to life. His hands have been zip tied as well, and he curses the professionalism of these gangsters - why couldn’t they have been amateurs and used rope? He manages to wriggle around until he is sitting up next to Will, who looks scared, apologetic and worried all at once. Hannibal kisses him lightly, which is difficult because of the bumps in the road, at which Will has the courage to laugh.

“I am very proud of you. I could feel your determination to make it here, even though if you had been caught driving you would have been imprisoned. And you bit Phillip,” Hannibal smiles widely. “I wish I could watch that again and again. Is that the one who....who hurt you, at the restaraunt?"

Will shakes his head. "He was going to, I think....but then..." his voice drifts off as he glances behind his shoulder to stare at the man in question. Philip gives him a sideways glance in return, his expression blank. "....but then he didn't."

Hannibal takes a long, relieved breath. The thought of Will being abused while he was just a few feet away has been eating away at him, particularly as they haven’t managed to talk about it. Now he just needs to work out how he is going to get them out of this situation - breaking out of the van will be almost impossible with them both tied up, and so the best bet is to try and get some, if not all, of the occupants of the van on their side...

“That was a good thing you did, Phillip.” Hannibal says. “Thank you for not hurting him.”


	37. Chapter 37

  
Philip lets out a gruff sound through his nose, not bothering himself with turning around when he says "I didn't do it for you. Now quiet down back there or you're going to be saying goodbye a lot fucking faster."

"Just, can you tell me why?," Will presses as he glances Hannibal's way. He feels a stirring in his gut, as if he can sense Hannibal's thought process and understands what he is trying to do. "You were going to....I mean, you had me right there and yet..." 

"You fucking let him go?," Jordan intervenes from the front seat, flashing Philip an incredulous look from the rear view mirror. 

"Just shut up!", Phil barks. "All of you!" 

Will shrugs. "You know, Jason, Philip can be actually sweet when he wants to be." It's little surprise that Philip takes great offense at this, his carefully procured rough n tumble image having taken more shots today than what it can bear. Will gives an audible gasp when he is wrenched backwards over the seat, and pulled directly into Phil's jean-clad lap. 

"I said, shut up," he grounds out in Will's ear. Will goes limp against him. 

Time to turn the charm up to 11. 

He tilts his head upwards at Philip, mouth dropping open slightly, his cheeks flushed and warm from the struggle. "Shhh, it's okay," he cooes, leaning forward to tuck his head under Phil's chin. It earns him a surprised grumble from the Alpha-- well, Will thinks, he's certainly stopped complaining. "You are a good man, Philip. In here." Will angles his nose into his chest, right about where Philip's heart is. "I have a feeling you are a good boss, too." 

Listening with moderate interest, the two suboordinates up front nod in agreement. 

He feels Phil relax almost intantaneously, his shoulders dropping, one hand coming around Will's shoulders to press him to his wide chest. He lets out a haggard sigh and buries his face in Will's hair, allowing himself to indulge in the scent. "I just don't get it," he admits finally, running a hand soothingly down Will's arm. "Why couldn't it have been me, you know?"

Hannibal tries to send encouragement through the bond - he thought he was a master manipulator but Will is an absolute natural. The next collar is going to have diamonds in it. 

“I wouldn’t take it as any comment on you, Phil,” he says. “You would be worthy of any Omega. You are certainly more of an Alpha than Cavanaugh.”

Phil snorts a laugh. 

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” he mutters.

"You've seen Hannibal's capabilities first hand," Will begins, very carefully choosing his next words. "You know what's funny? I bet between the two of you, you could make short work of Cavanaugh." Here, he inserts a very light laugh, one that's meant to give the option of taking that as an off-handed comment.

“The world of organised crime would certainly be better off for it,” Hannibal muses, sounding casual. 

“You and I have our differences, Phillip, but I’m sure that we can all agree that the man is a tit. Naturally he skims off the top - I would bet my Bentley that he never pays you the share you’re owed. You wouldn’t do that, as a leader, would you Phil?”

“Shut up!” Phillip barks. He doesn’t loosen his grip on Will, and he doesn’t speak again, but somewhere in the back of his mind a cog begins to turn. It keeps turning as they approach the compound, and by the time the van rolls up in front of the imposing looking building, that cog has made connections and set other cogs turning to, and what looks for all the world like a fully fledged idea has taken root in Phillip’s brain.


	38. Chapter 38

Three years ago, Cavanaugh had been in the back Den of the Mercedes Club when a blue-eyed devil tore through, followed closely by three bungling guards. He had launched himself over tables, sending playing cards and martini glasses flying, much to the astonishment of on lookers. He was "dressed"--if you could call it that--in a bright red harem outfit that clashed terribly with his perfect pale skin. 

Cavanaugh stretched one massive arm out and waited until the fimly material fluttered across his palm before making a fist, snagging the runaway with barely any effort at all and letting out a snort of indifference when the imp's feet swung out from underneath him and he landed in a heap on the floor. 

He didn't have a name then. When the guards caught up to him and hauled the spitting viper to his feet, Cavanaugh inquired of his ownership and was told that he had been pulled off the auction due to " Temperment Defect and Incompatability". For an Omega to be labeled a TDI only meant one thing--- he was destined for the breeding farms, where he would spend the rest of his natural life in chains, whelping pup after pup until his body failed. 

Cavanaugh asked to see the owner, and when he asked how much, the owner laughed heartily, for who could ever hope to tame a feral Omega? When Cavanaugh opened his checkbook, the laughing stopped. 

After several weeks of non-stop training and a hundred of his best Alphas repeatedly spent to thier last drop, his fight and fury remained undaunted and undiminished. Only one name seemed apropriate for an Omega like that. 

Cavanaugh's father had made his fortune rehabilitating wild Omegas for the service field--he always said they were harder to train because they were worth it, and Will was no exception. Cavanaugh himself had become so enamoured with the creature that he'd collared him right away for fear that he'd lose all control one day and mark him, forever tying himself to Will and ruining the property value. Theirs was no love story, but Cavanaugh fell nonetheless, hopeless.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are pretty brutal. A happy ending is in store, so hang in there!!!!

  
They call it the Green Room. It's actually a killing floor from an old slaughter house that Cavanaugh had purposefully reconstructed inside the basement of his six-story compound. (And here Pops used to say he didn't have a flair for the dramatic.)

He is sitting with his back to the old smoker (which has been converted into a roaring fireplace and decorated with wrought iron cow figures), enjoying a glass of brandy when Philip and company shuffle in. 

Cavanaugh rises to his feet, taking a liesurely stroll around the desk to perch himself in front of it. He wiggles a finger Philip's way. "Bring 'im here."

Will is vibrating like a fucking tuning fork, unable to stop the shaking as Philip shoves him forward. 

Cavanaugh snorts, clearly unimpressed with Will's beta-esque outfit that accentuates the masculinity of his frame instead of hiding it under a thin veil of silk and fluff. "The fuck're you wearing?" He jeers.

"Clothes," Will says blankly, doing his best to keep his voice level. 

"Not _Omega's_ clothes," Cavanaugh corrects, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Not the clothes I gave you."

Will raises his head proudly and says "Hannibal bought them for me." 

"Did he now?" Cavanaugh pushes off the solid oak desk to close the gap between them. He sniffs around Will's collar-less neck, and the mating mark, that deep throaty growl rumbling up from the pits of hell and rattling Will's eardrums. 

"Yes." 

"Got rid of my collar too, now didn't he?"

"Yes," Will repeats. He swallows sharply. 

"That's alright, luv," the towering Alpha purrs, tugging a strand of Will's hair free from its ponytail. "It was high time for a new one, anyway, especially after Knot-for-Brains shattered his fang with it." He questures towards Phil, who lets out a heavy grumble. "I have half a mind to make you a new one from your sweet Doctor's jawbone. Would you like that?"

Without waiting for a snarky reply, Cavanaugh's hands go into his hair, pulling Will into him and crushing thier mouths together with a kiss that is more teeth than lips. Will lets out a stifled whimper, trying desperately to turn his head away but he is stuck fast, at the mercy of Cavanaugh's cigarette breath and beard burn. At last he yanks Will back, and Will takes in huge gulps of air as a steady stream of blood trickles down his lip. 

He hands Will off to Jason, instructing him to take him over to a waiting stall, where he strips him bare and hoses him off like cattle, leaving Will naked and clinging to the tattered edges of his humanity. As Jason plucks a heavy cloth harness from the wall, and Will tries weakly to fight him off, Cavanaugh crosses the room to stare into the gray/gold eyes of the rival Alpha.

Cavanaugh hauls back, sending a solid fist straight through Hannibal's gut, causing bright red foam to bloom instantly from his mouth.

Will screams, clawing at Jason and the harness, desperately trying to get to Hannibal, to stop Cavanaugh, to end the pain. His distress rockets through thier bond, white-hot and visceral, as Cavanaugh deals blow after blow to his Alpha. 

Just about the time Will thinks it won't end, Cavanaugh pulls back and Hannibal slumps forward, his face expressionless, eyes trained on the redheaded Alpha despite the swelling and the blood. 

"And YOU----" Cavanaugh bellows, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. "You put your mark on _MY_ wife? You sully my property?? You fucking steal from _ME_?" He accentuates the last statement with another punch to the gut.


	40. Chapter 40

When Hannibal was 18, a student in Paris, he once again experienced something which would leave him forever changed. His aunt Murasaki, herself an omega, instilled values of equality and carefully stamped down any Alpha ego, and so one day when Hannibal was passing through Montmartre on his way back from selling some counterfeit art, a disturbance caught his attention.

An omega, a female, was on her hands and knees while her Alpha kicked her viciously in the stomach. He was snarling and vicious, shouting abuse while his foot connected with her stomach again and again. There were people everywhere, and yet no one looked in their direction, continuing about their business as is nothing was happening.

“Hey!” Hannibal shouted. “Ne fais pas ça!” The Alpha turned to look at him, seemingly amazed that Hannibal was even speaking to him. Hannibal tried to pick the omega up - her face was bloody and she was gasping for air, eyes rolling, blood running from her mouth.

“Are you challenging me, boy?” The man demanded, balling his fists.

“Are you crazy? You’re going to kill her.” Hannibal responded.

“That’s the idea,” the man said, with an evil grin.

“No, I won’t let you.” 

The man looked over Hannibal’s shoulder, where there was a police officer just entering the square.

“Help me!” The Alpha shouted loudly. “This man is trying to steal my omega.”

The police officer approached, and asked Hannibal whether this was true. Hannibal was lost for words for a moment, gesturing to the stricken woman who was quickly losing consciousness.

“She needs an ambulance,” he said. “She’s going to die.”

The policeman looked at him for a moment and then looked back at the Alpha.

“What did she do?” He asked.

“She is a terrible omega. Three heats and no pup, and now she is refusing to present for me.”

The policeman nodded as if this was satisfactory. He put a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder, as if to lead him away.

“You and I are going to have a little chat about trying to take things that don’t belong to you,” he said. “Come with me.”

“No,” Hannibal shouted, preparing to fight. “I won’t just stand here and let this happen.”

The policeman stared at him for a moment before taking out his truncheon and striking Hannibal hard across the head with it. He fell to the floor, his ears ringing, as the policeman hit him again and again, before sitting heavily on his back. All Hannibal could do was watch as the Alpha beat the omega to death, in the middle of the street, while the world ignored what was happening. Her body was still laying in the street as he was loaded into the back of the police van, and he never managed to find out her name. 

By the time Murasaki came to collect him from the holding cell the next morning, Hannibal Lecter has decided to kill every predatory Alpha that he ever came across, until their kind was removed from the face of the earth.


	41. Chapter 41

Back in the present, Cavanaugh’s fist connects with Hannibal’s stomach once again, and he thinks of the woman of Montmarte all those years ago. It’s going to feel good to rip Cavanaugh’s throat out. 

“You don’t own Will,” he rasps, spitting blood onto the floor. 

“You never have, you never will, no matter what you do to me.”

He isn’t afraid to die. He is afraid of living badly, and so Cavanaugh is just a detail, a plot on the map, but the truth must be told no matter what.

“How will you balance out when they weigh your soul? Some cultures believe that after you die, you have to watch your own life from start to finish. How would that make you feel?”

Cavanaugh doesn’t say anything. He nods at a couple of thugs in the corner - they disappear and come back with a breeding bench, which they place a few feet in front of Hannibal. 

“Speaking of watching,” says Cavanaugh. “I think we’ll give you a little show now. Bring him.”


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ths chapter contains a very graphic, violent rape scene. You have been warned!

  
Will manages to free one arm just long enough to give the brute that grabs him a black eye he won't soon forget. It earns him an open-palmed strike across his face that has his head spinning. He is thrown over the man's shoulder, kicking and flailing, and unceremoniously dumped face-down on the bench. Heavy chains are looped through the rings of his binds and secured to the base of the contraption, until at last Will is spread-eagle, his ass dangling high in the air. 

"Han," Will says. He is just a few feet in front of him, so close he could almost touch him if his hands were free. Hannibal's arms are wrenched behind his back, a thick bar placed through them at the elbows as he is hoisted upwards, suspended on a butcher's chain until his toes just barely touch the ground. "Sweetheart, it's okay," Will cooes, his voice even despite the rabbit-swift pulse of his pounding heart. "It's going to be alright."

Hannibal doesn’t want to look, but he makes himself watch, for Will. To look away would feel like abandoning his mate, and he hopes that Will can feel every plan he devised for Cavanaugh, every ounce of pain that he intends to inflict on the crowing, swaggering creature. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Phillip standing, seemingly impassive but for a twitch at his brow, and a clenched fist. Phillip is almost ready to act.

He watches, and commits every despicable moment to memory, from Will being slammed down onto the bench, to his trousers being removed, to Cavanaugh taking his position. Cavanaugh looks up at Hannibal, his eyes glinting, and Hannibal looks back, his stare made of steel. He doesn’t look away, and in the end it’s Cavanaugh who has to drop his gaze before he sets about his task. Will, to his credit, doesn’t make a noise, and doesn’t reward his attacker with a struggle but lays still in condemnation.

A single tear spills down Will's cheek as Cavanaugh enters him raw. Will is dry, his body just as resistant to this blatant act of barbarism as the rest of him. He sets his jaw as Cavanaugh grunts above him, grabbing the bar that runs across the top of the bench for leverage as he thrusts inside. 

From that moment on, not a word is spoken, Cavanaugh's gaze lazer-focused on Hannibal as the bench groans beneath his weight. He doesn't seem particularly pleased--his power play having not garnered simpering cries from his wayward omega nor threats of violence from his unlawful mate--but that is not about to stop him from enjoying himself. 

He dips a hand between Will's asscheeks to readjust himself before slamming Will so far forward his lower half jacknifes off the bench. This time, a sharp cry escapes from his clenched teeth and Cavanaugh laughs gutterally. 

When he grabs Will's shoulders, the hand that had been at Will's backside comes up covered in blood. It's only then that Hannibal notices the dark spatters dripping off the bench. 

Will's eyes gloss over, the visceral torment his body is enduring projecting itself through thier bond and wearing away at the edges of Hannibal's resolve. 

The sharp slap of skin-on-skin bouces off the bare walls for what seems like an eternity until Cavanaugh lets out a roar as he comes, pulling himself out just before his knot can lock itself inside of Will's quaking form. 

Will lets out the breath he'd been holding in, slumping lifelessly back to the bench with a hollow groan as Cavanaugh does himself back up. 

"Still as tight as ever," Cavanaugh annouces, sending his hand across Will's ass with a deafening CRACK. Will draws in a sharp gasp. 

"It's almost too bad I had his reproductive organs removed," The redheadded Alpha tsks as he strolls over to his desk and the roaring fire beyond. "He would have made a lovely little sow, don't you think, Dr. Lecter?" He plucks an iron from its holder and buries it beneath the coals. 

From the corner of his eye, Philip watches intently. 

"I suppose Will has already had that talk with you. He hasn't forgiven me for that yet. Not that it matters." Here, he pauses to turn the handle on the iron, absentmindedly prodding away a charred scrap of wood. "I don't think anything is past forgiving, for this little one. Will has a truly kind heart, despite his prickly exterior and his penchant for rebellion. I, however, am not so good-natured." 

He pulls the iron out, turning the end this way and that, nodding satisfactorily at the reddish glow that has begun on the sizeable emblem at the end. 

"Boss?" Philip murmurs under his breath. 

"You see, I've been thinking how to properly express my disappointment in Will," Cavanaugh continues, completely ignoring Philip. Phil curses under his breath and stalks off into the darkness, having apparently gone unnoticed by his superior, who is still waxing poetic and congratulating himself on how clever he is. 

Will murmurs, raising his head as far as the restraints will allow to glance behind him at what could have startled Philip so much as to make him leave. His stomach does backflips when he sees the strange glowing rod. 

"The mark will break as soon as you're dead, Doctor," Cavanaugh explains. "The wound will heal in time and Will's property value will recover. But you've given me the most wonderful idea." He strolls foward, closing the distance between himself and Will, reaching down to caress Will's firm bottom. "I am going to put a mark on him he cannot erase," he explains. "Where do you suppose I should put the brand, Doctor? On the shoulder? the lower back?" 

Philip is beside Hannibal in an instant, popping out of the shadows to unlatch the chain that holds Hannibal up. When his feet touch the floor, Philip cuts the zip ties binding his hands and steps away. Their eyes meet for only a millisecond, and Philip gives him a knowing nod of solidarity.

Hannibal Lecter is free.


	43. Chapter 43

  
Cavanaugh is surprised by a hand on his wrist, and looks up into the amber eyes of the devil. Hannibal squeezes just so, paralysis the nerves in Cavanaugh’s arm - his eyes go wide at the sight of his own hand letting go of the poker, and this moment of hesitation will cost him everything. 

In one fluid motion Hannibal shoves the branding iron down Cavanaugh’s throat, so hard that the end comes out of his stomach, still steaming. The smell of burning flesh fills the air, and Hannibal lets the still gargling gangster fall to the floor.

“Will,” Hannibal almost shouts, falling to his knees besides the breeding bench. They enjoy a moment of gravitational calm where it is just the two of them, where Hannibal gets to untie Will and hold him gently, kissing away tears, whilst behind them the room goes insane.

Cavanaugh’s death has the effect of the first domino falling over, and after that everything happens very very quickly.

“No one fucking move,” shouts Phillip, drawing his gun, which is the opposite of what happens. Most of the gangsters go to stand with Phillip, who is the natural choice to lead the group, having been the only sane one in charge for years anyway, but some of the other sharks can smell the blood in the water, and decide to make a play for the top job.

One of them, a big Alpha, makes a grab for Will, and gets him arm nearly ripped off courtesy of Hannibal, who throws him to the floor and stamps on his head for good measure, taking his gun. He hasn’t fired a gun for a long time, so he doesn’t get a clean shot at the next Alpha who tries to attack him but the man goes down none the less. He takes Will by the arm and starts leading them towards the door. Phillip can handle this by himself. 

A few feet from the exit, they find themselves face to face with the man himself. There is a moment where Hannibal think that Phillip is going to challenge him, which would be daft considering that Phillip has just watched him impale a man with a poker, but then Phillip just hands him a car key, and stands aside.

“Look after him,” is all he says.

“I will, thank you.” Hannibal replies, and then he and Will are headed out into the evening air and towards the van that brought them there. They embrace tightly once inside. Will is bleeding fairly heavily, and he shakes in Hannibal’s arms.

“You did so well,” Hannibal says, choking up.

Will tries to wipe the blood and grime from Hannibal's face but it only succeeds in smearing it around. "Are you okay, sweetheart?," he murmurs , "Can you drive?" 

Hannibal nods. 

Will tucks himself beneath his mate's arm as closely as he dares as the van roars to life and they peel out of the long drive way of the compound. Will doesn't look back. He is never going to have to see this place again or feel Cavanaugh's bruising hold---Hannibal made sure of that. 

Hannibal makes a fuss of Will checking him over but the determined omega ignores him, plucking the med kit from the center console and peeling open several packets of sanitizing wipes. He does his best to keep it steady as they take off down the highway, Hannibal wincing as Will presses the wet pad to the open cut on his cheekbone. 

"Sorry," He murmurs, but doesn't let up. 

The more distance they put between themselves and Cavanaugh's----now Philip's---mansion, the better Will feels. He gives up on trying to tug Hannibal's shirt off and chooses instead to cut it off with the scissors in the med kit. Will looks pale, even in the dim light of the overheat street lights, and he can sense Hannibal's distress at his condition. 

"I will be fine," Will reassures him. "I have been through worse. And so have you." 

They carry on in silence for the next hundred miles until at last they pass under a huge blue sign that says "Welcome to Maryland".

"I forgot to thank you," Will says, resting his head against Hannibal's shoulder. "You have done so much for me. I think the magnitude of it all has stunned me to the point that I'm speechless. I don't know why you are doing any of this, why you chose me to be your mate."

Hannibal brings his right hand around the cradle the back of Will’s head. He feels hyper alert still, and won’t let himself rest until they are home and he has seen to his mate. The blood on Will’s chair no longer looks bright and fresh, but there is still too much of it, and the omega looks about ready to drop. 

“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you.” Hannibal tells him, stealing his eyes away from the road to look at Will. 

“I wish the manner of our meeting had been different for your sake, but I could not be more glad that we did meet. I would do anything for you, Will. You never let yourself be beaten down, not really.” For a moment Hannibal has a flashback to the street in Montmartre. He wraps his arm more tightly around Will, and puts his foot on the floor. It’s well past time they were home.


	44. Chapter 44

The Baltimore house is a wreck. There is shattered glass everywhere, furniture is broken, and the place still stinks of fear, Alpha and blood. The body of the gangster Hannibal has killed is still lying stiff in the kitchen - Hannibal laughs loudly when Will goes over to it and kicks it, which doesn’t do his stomach any good and he has to lean over the sink and spit blood, Will standing next to him looking distressed.

Between them they get the body into the basement freezer - Hannibal can’t believe how well Will has taken to all this - and then Hannibal takes them upstairs and runs a bath. He lays towels on the floor and tells Will to lie down, so he can assess the damage. What he sees is horrific.

“This will require a stitch,” he says almost apologetically stroking Will’s back. “I need you to be brave once more today.” 

Hannibal works quickly, not wanting to prolong the pain. Will is used to discomfort and he takes it well, breathing deeply in time with the needle, and soon the injury looks a great deal better. He hisses when he gets into the bath, but it’s only momentary, and sets about washing Hannibal’s battered skin. It’s only now that Hannibal allows the day to catch up with him; he rests his head on Will’s shoulder and lets the tears fall, only now able to deal with how close he came to losing Will altogether.


	45. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We want to sincerely thank you so much for reading! We hope you enjoy this last chapter and stay tuned for more fic, coming soon!
> 
> ❤❤❤Hannigram is forever❤❤❤

_Two Weeks Later...._

  
The cute brunet leaning over the bar has garnered plenty of admiring stares. It is a balmy day, the kind where the wind picks up scents and carries them off with no effort at all and the citrus-colored sun glints off the pristine waters. 

A lone Alpha braves the journey across the busy beach to get a closer look at the stunning, cream-skinned Omega in the diamond collar. "Bonjour," He greets, his toothy white smile set against the back drop of glowing tan skin. He is young, a little on the inexperienced side, but he keeps a polite distance as the Brunet smiles bashfully back. 

"Bonjour," Will says, careful not to meet him in the eyes. 

The exhuberant young buck takes this as encouragement to sidle closer, and the Omega slides his cool blue eyes across the deck to where his mate relaxes on a lounge. The much more experienced (and much more handsome, if you asked the brunet) Alpha raises an eyebrow, seemingly unproturbed. 

"Je ne t'ai jamais vu ici."

Will smiles gently, hugging his elbows and gebtly rocking the empty barstool between them with one foot. "C'est ma première fois ici." 

"Ah." The Alpha's smile widens. He gestures to Will's collar. "Eh... Américain?" 

"Oui." 

"American Omegas," The Alpha tries in a thick french accent. "They still wear... le collier?"

Will shrugs. "Quelquefois."

Hannibal had mentioned that while Paris was fairly tolerant of all cultures, the rose gold ring of 2-carat diamonds would garner some attention. Collars were seen as archaic contraptions of a cruel patriarchy. Will said he didn't care, and he meant it. He was wearing it for himself, to remind him always that he was loved and cared for, and that he had a duty to love and care in return. It reminded him not of his place in the world, but of the world that he and Hannibal would carve out for themselves, together. 

Thankfully the bartender turns around and presents Will with thier refills just in time. Will thanks him, being sure to leave a generous tip, and turns to watch as Hannibal waves to him from under a straw umbrella. Will waves back and takes a sip before beginning the walk back to the patio. 

"Ohhhh," says the Alpha as the lightbulb flicks on. "Ton père?"

Will nearly spits out his drink. He's going to have a field day teasing Hannibal about this one, but for right now he focuses on losing this guy, and fast. "Non, non," Will giggles. "Mon amour."

"Je m'excuse!", The Alpha nearly shouts. "Je ne savais pas!"

"That's alright," Will chides. "I am flattered, truly. Merci." 

With a little nod, Will leaves the poor guy looking rather sheepish, feeling his eyes upon his back for just a moment, and then the semsation fades. 

"Well," he says, plopping down into the dluble chaise next to Hannibal and handing his drink to him. "You were certainly no help." His eyes sparkle mischeviously over his wine glass. He kicks off his sandals and leans back onto Hannibal's chest with a contented moan.

“I like watching you,” Hannibal answers quietly, offering no other apology or explanation. He ghosts his fingers over the collar, taking a deep breath of Will’s hair, bestowing the merest promise of a kiss on his neck. 

Their physical recovery had been long, Hannibal’s more so; he had to admit to himself that he was too old to take a kicking like that anymore, and as for Will’s psychological recovery, well, that was another story. 

“He thought you were my daddy,” Will says teasingly, tracing Hannibal’s hands with his own.

“Am I not?” Hannibal asks with a quirk of his brow, and Will’s laugh sends a pair of sleeping peace doves scurrying into the air in surprise.


End file.
